iDiisawa 

r,  ^ 
,  .t  ,.,  /_,  -.  ... 

rassing  ot  Uld  Japan 


I.William  Adams 


O  «  OSAKA 


o.r. 


'I  trust  you,  honourable  sir,  to  speak  further  if  you  so  desire.' 


Shibusawa 


or 


The    Passing    of   Old   Japan 


By 

I.  William  Adams 


Illustrated  by 

E.  Dalton  Stevens 


G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 

New   York   and   London 
fsnicherbocfcer  press 
1906 


COPYRIGHT,  1906 

BY 
I.  WILLIAM  ADAMS 


Ube  •Rnfcherbocfcer  press 


PREFACE 

'  I  VO  hope  to  understand  in  a  few  short  years  or 
•*•  even  in  a  lifetime  the  development  of  the 
humane,  refined,  and  notably  progressive  people  of 
Japan  would  be  presumptuous;  yet,  if  I  can  in  these 
pages  contribute  in  some  degree  toward  that  end,  I 
shall  feel  amply  rewarded. 

I  am  indebted  to  those  who  have  preceded  me  in 
this  field  for  much  of  my  detail.  I  shall,  moreover, 
always  hold  that  to  my  Japanese  friends  and  others, 
who  so  cheerfully  rendered  me  assistance  in  obtaining 
original  matter,  should  be  attributed  any  merit  which 
this  tale  of  old  Japan  may  possess.  Without  them  it 
could  not  have  been,  and  for  its  shortcomings  I  alone 
am  responsible. 

NOTE. — The  superior  figures  throughout  the  text  refer 
to  the  notes  in  the  appendix. 


1712029 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY vii 

I.   THE  CHRISTENING      i 

II.    EARLY  LIFE 12 

III.  MEETING  WITH  KINSAN 21 

IV.  COURSE  DETERMINED 29 

V.   THE  HIDDEN  CAVE 35 

VI.    THE  PLEDGE 47 

VII.    AN  UNEXPECTED  COMMAND 51 

VIII.    THE  MARRIAGE  CEREMONY 59 

IX.   THE  WEDDING  FEAST 65 

X.    THE  STOWAWAYS 78 

XI.   CAST  ADRIFT 81 

XII.    A  WOMAN'S  PRIVILEGE      89 

XIII.  DANGER  IN  SHIBUSAWA'S  ABSENCE      ...  97 

XIV.  THE  "No"  DANCE 104 

XV.    HOME  ABANDONED in 

XVI.  A  GREAT  SORROW 118 

XVII.  THE  CHILD 122 

XVIII.  THE  Vow  OF  VENGEANCE 129 

XIX.  THE  POET'S  BANISHMENT 132 

XX.  THE  FORTY-SEVEN  RONIN 136 

XXI.  THE  HOME-COMING 142 

XXII.  A  MEETING  IN  THE  GARDEN 147 

XXIII.  AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL 153 

XXIV.  THE  GEISHA  PARTY 160 

XXV.    THE  UNHAPPY  MEETING 167 

XXVI.    DAIMYO'S  PROCESSION 175 

XXVII.    SHIBUSAWA  RECLAIMED 182 

XXVIII.    THE  DAIMYO'S  ARREST      188 

XXIX.    MAIDO'S  PENALTY 199 

XXX.   THE  EARTHQUAKE      208 

XXXI.  THE  CHILD'S  FATE  212 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXII.    RONIN  RAIDS       218 

XXXIII.  THE  RISE  OF  SHIBUSAWA      223 

XXXIV.  NEHACHIBANA'S  REVENGE 232 

XXXV.    MOBILIZING  THE  SAMURAI 241 

XXXVI.    BATTLE  OF  FUSHIMA 248 

XXXVII.   THE  TRIUMPHAL  ARCH 255 

XXXVIII.    SAVING  THE  ARMADA 258 

XXXIX.   THE  BIVOUAC      265 

XL.    SIEGE  OF  TOKYO 267 

XLI.   THE  RESTORATION 278 

APPENDIX            281 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"  I   TRUST  YOU,  HONOURABLE  SIR,  TO  SPEAK 

FURTHER    IF  YOU  SO   DESIRE  "     Frontispiece 

THE  TWO-LIPPED  CUP  WAS  OFFERED  .  .  . 
TAKARA  MOISTENED  HER  LIPS  THEREFROM, 
THEN  PASSED  IT  TO  THE  BRIDEGROOM  .  .  62 

KINSAN  SAT  IN  DEEP  THOUGHT     .    .    .    WITH 

THE  CHILD  FONDLED  IN  HER  LAP  .         .     172 

THEIR  STEELS  RANG  WITH   THE  PERFECTION 

OF   THEIR  MAKING  .....     276 


vii 


INTRODUCTORY 

/"T~rHAT  to  the  new  the  old  must  yield  had  ever  been 
•*•  exemplified  in  Japan,  as  elsewhere,  though  until 
the  time  of  this  narrative  she  had  not  chosen  earnestly 
to  measure  the  test  outside  the  confines  of  her  own 
borders.  The  flowery  kingdom  of  Nippon1  did  not 
know  the  world  as  others  knew  it,  nor  had  she  as  yet 
cared  to  know  it,  for  she  was  occupied  and  contented 
within  her  own  sphere,  hence  satisfied  and  progres- 
sive without  coming  into  contact  with  another 
civilisation. 

In  love  as  in  law  this  kindly  civil  and  quaintly  con- 
stituted people  had  been  moved  and  swayed,  gov- 
erned and  ruled,  by  the  one  master  spirit,  ancestor 
worship,  as  marriage  was  contracted  and  government 
prosecuted  in  accordance  with  its  divine  precepts. 
Regardless  of  mutual  love  or  natural  affinity,  the 
family  in  its  official  capacity  chose  for  the  husband  a 
wife;  and  without  its  decree  there  was  no  release, 
though  love  was  the  basic  element  of  their  social 
existence. 

For  better  or  for  worse  this  condition  prevailed  and 
would  have  controlled  the  destinies  of  Shibusawa,  as 
it  had  those  before  him,  had  not  a  new  spirit  risen 
within  and  possessed  him  as  well  as  others  with 


x  Introductory 

whom  he  was  to  become  related.  At  the  birth  of 
this  young  prince,  which  occurred  in  the  month  of 
April,  A.D.  1834,  Maido,  his  father,  was  the  lord 
daimyo 2  of  Kanazawa  prefecture,  comprising  the 
then  wealthy  and  prosperous  provinces  of  Kaga, 
Echigen,  Sado,  Echigo,  Wakasa,  Etchu,  and  Noto,  in 
the  northwestern  part  of  Japan.  It  was  the  largest 
and  most  powerful  of  the  shogun's  3  many  prefec- 
tures, and  Maido  was  the  last  in  succession  of  one  of 
the  longest  unbroken  lines  of  royal  daimyos:  under 
the  shogun,  he  was  an  undisputed  ruler,  and  his 
people  were  among  the  most  progressive  and  peace- 
ful in  the  land. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  the  lord  daimyo  knew  no  law 
except  of  his  own  making;  always  subject,  however, 
to  the  dictates  of  an  inborn  religion  and  the  payment 
of  just  dues  to  his  recognised  superior,  the  shogun. 
Within  the  prefecture  was  the  daimyo 's  estate  and 
the  source  of  his  material  support,  and  though 
Tokyo,  the  shogun's  capital  city,  was  decreed  his 
legal  residence,  his  prefectural  land  was  the  place  of 
his  birth  and  succession,  his  principal  home,  and  the 
real  seat  of  his  power.  Yet  with  all  his  wealth  and 
influence  and  character,  that  he,  too,  as  we  shall  see, 
must  inevitably  bow  is  the  unalterable  law  of  progress. 


SHIBUSAWA 


SHIBUSAWA 


CHAPTER   I 

THE    CHRISTENING 

AIDO,  the  lord  daimyo,  came 
strolling,  late  one  May  day,  along 
a  pebbled  pathway  in  his  castle 
grounds  at  Kanazawa,  and  while 
doing  so  he  caught  a  last  glimpse 
of  the  great  red  sun  as  it  slowly 
sank  toward  the  western  horizon . 
"What  a  glorious  sunset!" 
said  he  to  himself,  as  he  halted 
and  breathed  deeply  the  sweet- 
ened air  that  floated  by,  lazily 
flagging  the  cherry  and  cypress 
trees  standing  here  and  there  in 
the  garden  about  him. 
He  paused  only  a  moment,  and  then  slowly  ap- 
proached the  family  mansion,  where  he  cast  his 
sandals  upon  the  flagstone  and  bounded  upon  the 
polished  veranda  with  a  vigour  that  bespoke  a  well- 
preserved  age  at  fifty  or  more.  Once  in  the  house 
he  quietly  proceeded  to  the  great  chamber  and  softly 
clapped  his  hands,  whereupon  a  servant  noiselessly 
approached,  bowed  low,  and  held  for  his  convenience 
a  silken  kimono,4  which  he  donned  and  folded  in  front. 


2  Shibusawa 

Having  thus  clad  himself  he  turned  his  back  upon 
Kimon  (the  Gate  of  Demons,  or  northwest  corner  of 
the  room),  crossed  his  toes  under  him,  and  squatted 
upon  the  soft,  matted  floor. 

A  second  call  brought  another  servant  who  placed 
on  the  floor  in  front  of  him  a  lacquered  brazier  filled 
with  live  coals,  a  tobacco  tray  with  tobacco,  and  a 
little  metal  pipe  with  a  long  bamboo  stem.  Maido 
then  sat  there,  quiet  and  alone,  smoking  and  won- 
dering, and  looking  out  over  the  glistening  waters 
at  the  beautiful  sunset,  until  his  eyes  closed  and  his 
head  nodded,  and  perchance  he  dreamed  of  the 
glories  yet  to  befall  the  great  and  good  house  of 
Kanazawa. 

Presently  a  sliding  partition  softly  opened  and 
there  stole  to  his  side  a  little  butterfly  whose  fairy- 
like  steps  did  not  awaken  him  and  whose  presence 
was  unheeded  until  she  cautiously  whispered : 

"Heigh!  my  lord,  my  daimyo,  am  I  welcome,  that 
I  come?" 

"Heigh!  my  wife,  my  Kakezara,  I  trust  it  may 
not  be  other  than  welcome  now  that  you  have  chanced 
to  come  without  Mai  do's  permission." 

"Even  so,  my  honourable  master,  I  present  you 
with  a  child,  born  erstwhile  the  seventh  day." 

"Then  have  you  no  better  words  than  these?  You 
know  well  my  wishes.  Seven  wives  have  I  married 
and  do  now  give  shelter  within  this  splendid  castle. 
To  you,  the  last,  is  well  known  my  wish,  my  hope, 
my  command.  It  is  well  that  you  bow  low,  for  if 
the  word  be  spoken  falsely,  and  speak  you  shall, 
then  will  I  unsheathe  the  sword  of  Amanosakohoko 
and  bury  the  tempered  steel  deep  in  your  heaving 
breast.  No,  I  will  not  so  degrade  you,  but  will 


The  Christening  3 

sentence  you  to  harakiri 5  —  a  death  and  punish- 
ment more  befitting  your  stupid  self,  for  it  is  a  great 
sin  to  disobey  your  lord  and  master.  But  speak 
the  word,  and  truly,  and  I  will  raise  up  your  blushing 
face  and  mete  you  the  proudest  and  grandest  within  my 
gift.  Speak  as  I  command,  Kakezara,  and  you  shall 
be  the  choice  of  my  heart,  the  queen  of  my  household. 
All  other  wives  shall  be  as  servants  and  shall  respond 
to  your  bidding.  Of  kimonos  you  shall  have  without 
number.  Your  chair  shall  be  inlaid  with  mother- 
of-pearl  and  lacquered  with  pure  gold  from  the  mines 
of  Sado.  Sweets  suited  to  your  taste  shall  be  made 
of  the  best  and  purest.  Speak,  O  Kakezara,  and  you 
shall  henceforth  reign  queen  of  Maido's  household." 

"My  lord,  my  daimyo,  then  I  would  that  it  were 
not  true,  for  I  cannot  undo  that  which  is  done  even 
though  I  am  to  suffer  the  ills  of  an  unhappy  lot: 
position  is  a  husband's  due,  then  a  wife's  happiness. 
By  the  spirit  of  my  ancestors  and  the  grace  of  the 
gods  your  command  has  been  obeyed  —  it  is  a  son." 

"Ebisu!  Ebisu!  O  Ebisu!  god  of  good  luck,  how 
Maido  is  this  day  honoured  and  the  gods  pleased!  for 
it  is  my  command  that  he  be  named  Shibusawa,  and 
it  is  the  will  of  Jimmu  that  he  rise  up  to  good  and 
mighty  deeds.  Rise,  Kakezara,  my  queen,  and  place 
the  child  in  the  arms  of  Okisan;  and  you,  slave,  take 
care  that  your  charge  receive  due  attention  that  he 
may  grow  up  strong  of  body  and  mind,  for  so  sure 
as  he  live  he  shall  be  tried  by  all  the  gods  of  hatred 
and  woe.  I  charge  you  that  no  morsel  be  given  him 
except  by  your  hand,  for  should  ill  befall  this  my 
child  then  beware  of  the  ancestral  demons  who  dwell 
at  the  shrine  of  Jigoko. 

"Kakezara,  my  lady,  proceed  to  the  inner  chamber 


4  Shibusawa 

and  there  remain  in  strict  seclusion  until  coolies 
have  fetched  water  from  the  river  Yamato  in  which 
to  bathe;  for  as  you  live  you  have  a  secret,  and  until 
strengthened  by  the  spiritual  waters  the  temptation 
to  divulge  might  overcome  your  desire  to  obey.  I 
have  imparted  to  you  something  of  that  which  the 
gods  have  willed  Shibusawa,  that  a  mother's  love 
and  solicitude  may  the  better  shield  his  tender  years. 
Keep  it  sacred  under  pain  of  displeasing  your  husband 
and  provoking  the  wrath  of  Oni,  for  as  it  has  pleased 
me  that  you  obeyed  so  let  it  please  you  to  obey. 
Hence,  my  lady,  my  Kakezara. 

"Yendo,  ass  that  you  are,  pretending  ancestral 
birth  befitting  to  serve  a  lord  daimyo  so  good  and 
great  as  I,  come  hither  and  bow  low  before  the 
father  of  Shibusawa.  Go  carry  Maido's  command 
to  the  temple  of  Yeiheiji  that  seven  times  seven 
solemn  strokes  be  sounded,  calling  upon  the  spirit  of 
Amaterasu  to  awaken,  that  she  may  welcome  the 
new  born.  Send  swift  running  messengers  to  notify 
all  the  people  that  Maido,  their  lord  and  master,  is 
the  father  of  a  son,  christened  Shibusawa,  whom  it 
has  pleased  the  gods  shall  rule  his  ancestral  heritage 
in  obedience  to  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience 
and  with  honour  to  his  majesty's  shogun.  Cause  to  be 
hung  above  the  entrance  to  every  house  red  and 
yellow  lanterns  that  all  may  take  notice,  for  to  those 
who  remain  ignorant  shall  appear  spirits  mounted 
upon  dragons  with  eyes  of  fire  and  nostrils  belching 
clouds  of  flame  and  smoke,  as  they  charge  down 
through  the  heavens  toward  Ema-O. 

"Convey  to  the  people  my  command  that  from  the 
new  to  the  old  moon,  following  next,  none  shall  eat 
more  than  half  his  allowance  of  rice  or  drink  more 


The   Christening  5 

than  half  his  sake,  bringing  the  remainder  to  their 
daimyo's  storehouse  that  a  great  feast  may  be  in- 
dulged. They  shall  also  bring  of  their  silk  one-half 
and  of  their  potted  flowers  many,  that  Kakezara,  the 
noble  mother,  may  have  kimonos  without  number 
and  her  gardens  may  be  filled  with  beauty  and  fra- 
grance. Those  engaged  in  the  making  of  sweets 
shall  make  such  as  will  please  her  taste,  and  beware 
that  none  displease,  for  better  that  ten  thousand 
times  ten  thousand  slaves  perish  at  their  labour  than 
Kakezara,  queen  of  Maido's  household,  be  not  served 
without  the  slightest  displeasure.  Let  the  most 
famed  of  workers  in  wood  and  lacquer  be  called 
together  that  they  may  counsel  with  one  another 
about  the  making  for  Kakezara  a  chair;  and,  as  I 
myself  have  taught  them  well  in  this  art,  let  all 
beware  that  when  the  work  is  done  there  be  none 
other  so  good;  for  I  shall  net  be  so  base  as  to  spare 
even  one  who  shall  in  the  least  manner  slight  his  labour 
or  fail  in  his  part. 

"I  command  that  the  governor  of  each  province 
select  the  fairest  daughters  from  among  his  kinsmen, 
that  there  may  assemble  at  the  shibai  (place  of 
amusement),  during  the  first  moon  of  the  iris  and  the 
lotus,  not  less  than  seven  times  seventy-seven  virgins 
with  rosy  complexions  and  pleasing  manners,  for  the 
goddess  Benten  has  willed  Maido  the  pleasures  of  at 
least  three  moons.  Tell  the  household  keeper  to 
make  ready  chambers  fronting  on  gardens  filled  with 
the  perfume  of  flowers  and  the  song  of  birds,  and, 
when  the  hour  has  come,  to  assemble  these  fairies  in 
the  silken  hall  of  love,  that  their  lord  daimyo,  like 
Jimmu  of  old,  may  descend  the  f£ted  stair  into  a 
world  of  beauty  and  pleasure. 


6  Shibusawa 

"And  when  all  else  has  been  done  you  will  instruct 
him  that  henceforth  Kakezara  shall  occupy  the 
choicest  pillow  at  the  head  of  Maido's  lawful  wives, 
and  that  of  them  her  voice  shall  be  first  in  authority  : 
that  her  rank  at  bath  shall  be  next  to  Shibusawa 's 
and  first  among  her  sex." 

The  news  of  Shibusawa's  birth  and  christening 
soon  spread,  and  the  excitement  wore  heavily  from 
the  meanest  coolie  to  Maido  himself,  though  probably 
none  was  more  worried  than  Yukesan,  the  oldest  and 
meanest  servant  in  the  household.  This  faithful  old 
slave  had  climbed  daily,  for  seven  successive  days 
before  the  christening,  to  the  top  of  Onnasaka,  and 
each  time  as  often  bumped  her  head  upon  the  cold 
hard  stone  at  the  base  of  Kishemogin's  tomb,  pray- 
ing for  the  goddess  mother  of  fiends  to  come  and 
claim  the  new  born.  For  seven  months  prior  thereto 
even,  she  had  importuned  this  fiendish  goddess  to 
render  Maido's  lawful  wives  incapable  of  bearing  a 
male  child,  hoping  that  her  own  fatherless  imp, 
Okyo, — now  seven  years  of  age,  with  slight  form 
and  stooped  shoulders,  his  eyes  small  and  his  head 
peaked,  whose  hair  stood  out  like  bristles  on  a  porcu- 
pine, while  his  nose  looked  owlish  and  his  ears  as  a 
squirrel's,  —  might  naturally  be  adopted  and  thus 
become  the  inheritor  of  his  master's  rank  and  place. 

The  rest  of  the  household  busied  themselves  with 
the  day's  rounds  or  discussing  the  probable  change 
at  the  castle,  for  little  were  they  interested  in  outside 
affairs.  They  were  not  concerned  with  the  possible 
new  daimyo's  bearing  upon  the  welfare  at  large,  for 
they  were  destitute  of  power  to  aid,  hence  without 
any  inclination  to  heed;  where  the  only  hope  in  life 
was  to  do  the  bidding  of  a  master.  Each  courted 


The   Christening  7 

his  own  content  and  permitted  others  likewise  to 
suffer  or  adapt  their  own  circumstances.  They  were 
an  independent  lot,  hence  their  abject  dependence. 

When,  therefore,  the  hour  for  feasting  had  arrived, 
and  each  little  tray,  hustled  in  and  set  upon  the  floor 
in  front  of  the  person  served,  was  seen  to  contain  a 
small  satsuma  bowl,  filled  with  a  rare  delicacy  —  con- 
sisting of  real  live  worms  (a  kind  of  salt  water  shrimp), 
wriggling  and  crawling,  and  served  only  upon  ex- 
traordinary occasions  —  everybody  accounted  his 
master  a  noble  of  the  royal  blood.  Eating,  smoking, 
and  drinking  were  interspersed  with  a  lagging  con- 
versation until  the  last  was  stretched  at  length  upon 
the  spotless  matting,  his  only  place  of  sleeping. 
Maido,  too,  had  gone  to  sleep  at  an  early  hour,  and 
when  he  awakened  the  next  morning  he  felt  re- 
freshed, and  was  well  pleased  with  a  recollection  of 
preceding  events.  Without  rising,  he  reclined  on  his 
elbow  and  looked  out  at  the  landscape  around,  for 
early  in  the  morning  servants  had  noiselessly  removed 
the  outer  partitions  so  that  their  master  could  lounge 
on  the  floor  and  enjoy  the  open  air  at  his  pleasure. 
This  morning  the  sun's  rays  seemed  to  give  a  little 
more  warmth  than  usual,  and  as  they  fell  amongst 
the  green  foliage  the  large  drops  of  dew  reflected 
sparkling  gems  that  lolled  on  the  hollow  leaflets,  or 
trickled  down  the  long  and  bended  blades  of  grass. 

"What  a  glorious  world,  and  how  sweet  to  live 
in!"  thought  he,  as  he  lay  there  revelling  in  the 
beauties  of  art  and  nature. 

Strong  and  vigorous  of  body,  mind,  and  heart,  as 
only  those  are  who  are  at  peace  with  the  world,  he 
arose  and  briskly  crossed  the  room  to  the  inner 
veranda.  Then,  casting  off  his  night  kimono,  he 


8  Shibusawa 

lightly  tripped  down  upon  a  marble  slab,  and  running 
along  the  smooth  footpath  to  an  arbour,  overhung  with 
vine  and  flower,  plunged  into  the  bracing  waters 
already  prepared  for  his  coming.  After  the  bath, 
massage,  and  shave,  attended  by  waiting  servants, 
he  donned  walking  apparel  and  sprang  down  along 
the  winding  walk  among  dwarfed  trees,  under  arti- 
ficial cliffs,  and  around  miniature  mountains;  here 
he  crossed  a  red-lacquered  bridge  and  there  passed 
a  gorge  or  waterfall;  coming,  presently,  to  a  crystal 
lake,  he  made  an  unsuccessful  throw  or  two,  then  cast 
his  rod  aside  and  continued  his  tramp  in  the  open  or 
through  the  brush  and  bamboo  to  a  distant  corner 
of  the  garden.  Here  he  slackened  his  gait  and  with 
reverence  approached  the  solemn  shrine  wherein 
stood  the  tomb  of  Hajama,  the  illustrious  founder 
of  his  august  family;  and  there,  in  the  quiet,  and 
alone,  at  the  base  of  this  strangely  carved  monument, 
he  knelt  and  clapped  his  hands  and  reverently  bowed 
to  the  spirit  of  his  immortal  ancestor. 

When  his  morning  prayer  was  finished  Maido 
quietly  left  the  misty  place  and  walked  out  again  into 
the  freshness  of  life  and  past  the  playground  where 
groups  of  children  romped  on  the  green  or  chattered 
with  childish  glee.  As  he  passed  them  by  he  paused 
only  to  look  at  them  for  a  moment  and  then  walked 
on  toward  the  great  gate  in  front.  Now  and  then 
he  stooped  to  pluck  a  leaflet,  or  stood  listening  to  the 
tuneful  zephyrs  as  they  played  among  the  branches; 
sometimes  he  stopped  to  watch  the  light  and  shadows 
chase  each  other  across  the  grassy  sward,  or  started 
at  the  sonorous,  "Haugh!  Haugh!  Haugh!"  wafted 
from  high  overhead. 

"Truly  he  is  the  master  bird,"  sighed  he,  as  he 


The  Christening  9 

watched  the  black  thing  perching  upon  a  lofty  branch 
or  soaring  above,  issuing  his  harrowing  notes  and 
stirring  the  nerves  of  superstitious  Japan. 

Presently,  as  usual  upon  such  occasions,  Okyo 
emerged  from  a  cluster  of  bushes  and  came  bowing 
and  bumping  and  crawling  —  half  confident,  half 
fearful  —  after  his  master ;  who  now  stood  admiring 
the  huge  wisteria  which  overhung  the  black-lacquered 
gate  and  bronze  trimmings.  Observing  the  boy's 
presence,  Maido  said,  kindly,  and  without  turning 
around : 

"Heigh!  is  that  you,  Okyo,  my  funny  little  slave? 
Pray  tell  me  what  brings  you  here  so  early  in  the 
day?" 

"Heigh!  I  thought  you  might  be  lonely  and  I'd 
come  and  drive  away  the  fox." 

"  But,  my  lad,  what  have  you  been  doing  that  your 
kimono  is  wet  and  covered  with  mud?" 

"I've  been  down  at  the  beach  fishing  for  crabs. 
I  wonder  why  Kami  doesn't  make  crabs  grow  on 
land?" 

"My  child,  he  has  placed  them  in  the  waters  of 
the  deep  sea  so  that  none  but  the  industrious  and 
the  brave  may  enjoy  so  choice  a  food." 

"Are  daimyos  industrious  and  brave?" 

Maido  made  no  answer  to  the  boy's  inquiry  but 
turned  toward  the  fragrant  vine,  and  stood  admiring 
the  bright  foliage,  possibly  dreaming  of  the  future 
of  his  son  and  heir,  until  Okyo  once  more  began 
chattering. 

"Heigh!  great  master,  please  why  is  the  vine  so 
large  and  beautiful?" 

"Heigh!  Okyo,  it  is  because  our  ancestral  gods 
have  so  created  it." 


i  o  Shibusawa 

"But  why  do  not  the  gods  create  vines  so  large 
and  so  beautiful  for  all  men?" 

"Because,  my  child,  all  men  are  not  given  to  such 
beauty." 

"Are  all  daimyos  inclined  toward  only  that  which 
is  beautiful?" 

"Yes.  They  are  descended  from  the  gods  of 
goodness  and  love,  and  as  the  spirits  of  these  gods 
dwell  in  the  realms  of  heavenly  beauty  so  do  the 
minds  of  daimyos  dwell  upon  things  of  earthly 
beauty." 

"If  daimyos  think  and  do  only  things  which  are 
beautiful,  why  do  they  cut  men's  heads  off?" 

"That  is  done  in  obedience  to  the  commands  of  our 
superiors;  and,  I  assure  you,  there  is  nothing  more 
beautiful  than  an  act  of  obedience  to  our  masters." 

"Will  Shibusawa  be  a  daimyo  when  he  grows  up?" 

"Yes;  if  his  head  be  spared  so  long  and  his  father's 
not." 

"Will  I,  too,  be  a  daimyo  when  I  am  a  man  ? " 

"No,  child.  How  came  you  to  think  of  such  a 
thing?" 

"Because  mother  says  I  look  tike  Shibusawa,  and 
I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't  be  just  like  him." 

"You  shall  be  Shibusawa's  friend  and  confidant." 

"Why  shall  I  be  his  friend  and  confidant?" 

"Because  you  will  comfort  and  console  him  during 
moments  of  contemplation  and  despair,  just  as  you 
have  myself  since  you  were  first  able  to  tread  about 
my  gardens  on  wooden  stilts." 

"Why  will  I  comfort  and  console  him?" 

"Because  you  are  the  son  of  —  only  a  mother, 
who  is  of  Kishemogin  and  possessed  of  less  wit  and 
more  cunning  than  a  fox.  Now  then,  hie  you  away 


The  Christening  1 1 

to  your  mother's  mat  and  feast  well  upon  rice  and 
fish  so  that  you  may  grow  strong  in  endurance,  for 
you  shall  have  many  and  severe  trials  in  following 
this  youth  ere  he  has  much  passed  your  age." 

"Oh,"  said  Maido,  to  himself,  "see  him  run  away 
in  obedience  to  my  command!  There  is  not  yet  a 
twig  so  crooked  or  a  thing  so  small  but  it  can  be 
made  of  use.  As  the  mould  is  shaped  so  will  be  the 
cast.  He  is  of  the  right  material.  I  shall  see  that 
he  grows  up  after  my  liking,  bend  him  to  the  task 
properly,  and  thus  provide  the  instrument  through 
which  Shibusawa  may  acquit  himself  of  the 
thankless  duties  imposed  by  Bishamon,  god  of 
provocation." 


CHAPTER   II 

EARLY    LIFE 

FROM  the  recording  of  Shibusawa's  birth  in  the 
Keidzu,  the  daimyo's  great  book,  until  he  had 
passed  sixteen  (the  average  age  of  discretion  in  Japan) , 
there  was  but  little  in  his  life  that  is  of  interest  so 
far  as  this  story  is  concerned.  Maido  was  always 
solicitous  about  the  child's  care,  and  took  every 
precaution  to  have  him  taught  only  such  ideas  as 
were  in  accord  with  his  ancestors'  and  the  precon- 
ceived notions  of  the  shogun's  government. 

The  son  inherited  from  his  father  much  of  his 
stalwartness  and  determination,  and  from  his  mother 
something  of  those  finer  qualities,  tenderness  and 
forbearance,  which  combined  at  an  early  age  to 
quicken  in  him  a  deeper  sense  and  insure  a  broader 
scope  of  life.  He  evinced  at  an  early  age  an  untiring 
devotion  to  his  studies  and  to  a  research  for  truth; 
and  all  the  many  castle  buildings  were  soon  even  more 
familiar  to  him  than  to  Maido,  and  he  knew  well 
the  history,  the  uses,  and  the  purposes  of  each.  The 
castle  ramparts  were  his  playgrounds,  and  each 
swordsman  and  every  archer  was  a  slave  indeed. 

Either  in  company  or  alone  he  had  traversed  all 
the  macadam  roads,  leading  from  village  to  village 
and  province  to  province;  and  in  palace  or  house, 
from  city  to  country,  he  knew  the  people  and  they 
knew  him,  and  as  he  grew  older  they  learned  to  love 
and  respect  him  as  they  did  Maido  himself.  Nor 


Early  Life  13 

was  he  content  with  what  he  saw  and  heard  at  home, 
but  as  he  grew  he  began  to  thirst  for  a  knowledge  of 
the  outer  world;  though  in  this  he  had  been  discreet 
as  regards  his  father,  for  however  ambitious  his  de- 
sires he  had  not  once  expressed  a  wish.  Maido  knew 
too  well  that  there  were  more  peace  and  contentment 
and  less  crime  and  misery  at  home  than  elsewhere, 
and  very  wisely  wished  his  son  to  be  kept  from  too 
close  a  discernment  until  he  had  arrived  at  maturer 
years. 

Shibusawa's  desire  to  go,  however,  finally  grew  into 
a  determination.  Whereupon,  as  was  usual  in  such 
matters,  he  took  Okyo  into  his  confidence,  at  least 
to  the  extent  of  consulting  him  how  best  to  frustrate 
his  father  without  disobeying  him.  Now  Okyo 
reasoned  that  as  Shibusawa  had  not  asked  the  privi- 
lege of  going  he  had  never  been  admonished  to  stay; 
so,  after  consulting  Fudo,  god  of  enlightenment,  thus 
easing  his  conscience,  he  advised  that  it  was  best  to 
make  ready  and  go,  without  endangering  their 
chances  by  asking  permission  of  anybody. 

Shibusawa,  though  doubtful  of  its  propriety, 
readily  conceded  the  wisdom  of  Okyo's  reasoning, 
for  above  all  other  things  he  would  not  disobey: 
strategy,  while  not  characteristic  of  him,  he  deemed 
the  proper  thing,  as  it  was  no  more  an  inborn 
trait  than  a  national  virtue.  Early  that  autumn, 
accordingly,  he  began  to  curtail  his  expenses  as  much 
as  he  could  without  arousing  suspicion,  and  to  save 
from  his  allowance  a  fund  with  which  to  defray  the 
cost  of  their  contemplated  trip.  The  time  of  starting 
was  a  difficult  thing  to  determine,  as  under  ordinary 
circumstances  Shibusawa  was  almost  certain  to  be 
recognised  while  passing  the  gates,  and  unless  a  very 


14  Shibusawa 

good  reason  was  apparent  to  the  guards  such  a  cir- 
cumstance would  have  been  immediately  reported  to 
the  castle.  Here  Okyo  again  displayed  his  judgment 
by  advising  the  day  after  Nobori-iche,  boys'  festival 
(May  5th),  it  being  the  day  upon  which  Maido  would 
start  upon  his  regular  visit  into  the  country.  This 
trip  generally  lasted  from  two  to  four  weeks,  and  ever 
since  Shibusawa's  birth  the  starting  had  been  put  off 
until  this  particular  date,  —  as  often,  when  the  boy 
had  grown  older,  he  was  taken  along;  yet  his  going 
was  never  compulsory  or  even  urged  against  his 
pleasure. 

When  the  allotted  time  came  Shibusawa  again 
started  off  with  his  father  and  suite,  but  before  they 
had  gone  far  he  suddenly  changed  his  mind  and 
pleaded  to  be  allowed  to  return.  Maido,  though  dis- 
appointed in  the  loss  of  his  son's  company  and  not 
the  least  suspicious  of  a  serious  motive,  readily  granted 
permission,  and  Shibusawa  lost  no  time  in  joining 
Okyo  at  a  certain  agreed  place,  where  the  former 
quickly  changed  his  silken  kimono  and  lacquered 
shoes  for  the  regular  dress  of  a  pilgrim,  while  the  latter 
with  less  trouble  donned  the  same  kind  of  garb. 
Thus  disguised  they  passed  through  the  city  and 
escaped  into  the  country,  in  a  direction  opposite  to 
that  taken  by  his  father,  and  travelled  along  unmo- 
lested until  they  had  gone  entirely  out  of  Maido 's 
domain  and  into  the  territory  of  a  hostile  neighbour. 

Having  thus  placed  himself  beyond  pursuit, 
Shibusawa  despatched  a  message  to  his  father  explain- 
ing fully  his  intentions  and  assuring  him  of  his  safety. 
Maido  was,  thereupon,  overwhelmed  with  anxiety, 
yet  he  made  no  attempt  to  follow.  He  realised  that 
his  only  hope  of  seeing  him  again  lay  in  the  boy's 


Early  Life  15 

own  discretion  and  voluntary  return;  pursuit  would 
have  been  the  means  of  disclosing  his  identity  to  a 
bitter  and  jealous  rival,  and  thenceforth  he  must  be 
in  danger  of  death  and  possible  torture. 

The  getting  off  without  discovery  had  so  occupied 
and  stimulated  Shibusawa  that  he  had  as  yet  given 
but  little  thought  to  the  dangers  and  hardships 
which  confronted  him.  True,  he  was  acquainted 
with  laws  and  customs  at  home,  and  was  not  alto- 
gether unfamiliar  with  those  in  force  elsewhere,  yet 
he  quickly  discovered  that  the  spirit  and  regulations 
in  a  country  continually  at  war  are  necessarily  very 
different  from  those  of  one  where  quiet  and  industry 
prevail.  However,  he  had  set  out  for  a  definite  pur- 
pose and  he  did  not  mean  to  lose  courage,  nor  let  any 
obstacle  stand  in  the  way  of  accomplishing  what  he 
had  undertaken.  He  had  chosen  the  one  disguise 
that  would  make  excuse  and  enable  him  to  pass 
through  the  country,  provided  he  travelled  from 
temple  to  temple  and  shrine  to  shrine,  the  proper 
business  of  a  pilgrim.  And  as  Okyo  had  had  at 
home  some  experience  of  this  kind  he  at  first  relied 
upon  him  to  lead  the  way  and  avoid  any  serious  con- 
flict with  the  numerous  police,  guards,  and  spies  who 
infested  the  region  which  they  were  about  to  explore. 
He  trusted  to  his  father's  good  judgment  to  make  no 
attempt  to  follow;  yet  to  be  entirely  safe  he  chose,  for 
the  moment,  to  avoid  Kyoto,  and  the  more  noted 
shrines  of  that  locality,  and  to  keep  to  the  westward 
and  overland  toward  Shimonoseki  and  Nagasaki,  in 
the  extreme  west  and  south. 

Wandering  about  almost  at  will  and  without  undue 
interference  they  visited  all  of  the  principal  shrines 
and  places,  including,  on  the  return  trip,  Kyoto,  Nara, 


1 6  Shibusawa 

and  Kamakura  in  the  far  east.  It  was  now  almost 
Kawabisaki,  the  Day  of  the  Opening  of  the  River 
(July  twenty -fifth)  —  at  Tokyo,  the  residence  seat 
of  the  shogun  —  and  as  Shibusawa  had  never  wit- 
nessed a  celebration  of  the  local  autumn  holiday  he 
very  much  desired  to  join  in  the  coming  festivities. 
Hence  by  special  effort  and  by  hastily  passing  some 
of  the  minor  places  of  interest  they  reached  the  capital 
city  late  on  the  second  day  preceding  the  gala  cere- 
monies. 

They  were  surprised  upon  their  arrival,  however, 
to  find  that  they  were  none  too  soon,  and  that  the 
rush  of  pilgrims  and  traders  already  made  it  diffi- 
cult of  obtaining  quarters  close  to  the  main  entrance 
at  the  palace  grounds,  the  much  coveted  place  of 
rendezvous.  As  their  expenses  had  hitherto  been 
even  lighter  than  expected,  Shibusawa  was  still  pro- 
vided with  ready  funds,  and  he  now  proposed  to  get 
as  near  the  main  approach  as  he  could  without  seem- 
ing impertinent,  and  as  a  matter  of  convenience,  as 
well  as  respect,  to  secure  the  best  accommodations 
consistent  with  their  apparent  stations.  Thus  they 
finally  established  themselves  at  the  Look-See  tea 
house,  a  favourite  hostelry  for  the  better  class  of  pil- 
grims, and  were  assigned  quarters  on  the  top  floor 
plainly  in  view  of  the  gates  and  directly  on  the  line 
of  march. 

This  noted  caravansary  did  not  differ  much  from 
the  rest  of  the  two-storied  open-sided  thatch-roofed 
houses  resembling  hay-stacks  on  stilts  that  lined 
both  sides  of  the  narrow  streets  which  emerged 
closely  from  the  outer  entrance  at  the  palace  enclo- 
sure. Within  the  house,  in  the  broad  and  airy  tea 
rooms  below,  or  on  the  soft  matted  floors  above,  these 


Early  Life  17 

jolly  transient  and  sometimes  happy  wits  would  sit 
or  lounge  discussing,  over  a  cup  of  tea  or  a  bowl  of 
sake,  the  topics  of  the  day  or  the  gossip  of  their  par- 
ticular neighbourhood.  Without,  the  brilliant  lights, 
the  gaily  dressed,  the  sound  of  the  koto,8  the  song  of 
the  geishas,7  the  clatter  of  shoes,  the  parley  of  trades- 
men, the  chatter  of  voices,  the  endless  round  of  life 
from  early  morning  till  late  at  night,  might  well  have 
turned  the  heads  and  emptied  the  pockets  of  the 
thirsty  throngs  who  ever  crowded  the  happy-go-lucky 
place.  Much  of  all  this  could  be  distinctly  seen  and 
heard  from  Shibusawa's  apartments  in  the  second 
story,  fronting  the  plaza,  nor  did  he  lose  an  oppor- 
tunity, for  he  was  there  to  see  and  learn  as  well  as  to 
rest  and  enjoy  himself. 

Thus  he  remained  quiet  and  observant,  without 
venturing  upon  the  street,  until  the  evening  of  the 
second  day  after  their  arrival.  In  the  meantime 
Okyo  had  been  sent  out  to  reconnoitre  the  principal 
places  and  the  liveliest  dancing  girls,  in  which  he  was 
materially  assisted  by  an  Osaka  merchant  who  occu- 
pied an  adjoining  room.  Thereupon,  after  a  sup  at 
the  restaurant  and  a  quiet  smoke  on  the  floor,  they 
all  sauntered  off  in  quest  of  such  pleasures  and  excite- 
ment as  the  night  might  afford. 

As  this  was  the  last  night  before  the  grand  parade 
the  streets  were  unusually  crowded  and  the  buying 
was  brisk.  Now  more  than  at  any  other  time  the 
servants  and  retainers  and  their  families  were  per- 
mitted to  come  outside  the  walled  enclosure  and  into 
the  streets  in  quest  of  trinkets  and  gewgaws  with 
which  to  ornament  and  bedeck  themselves  on  the  fol- 
lowing day;  the  chance  to  elbow  these  favoured  ones, 
probably  more  than  a  desire  to  buy,  brought  there 


1 8  Shibusawa 

many  of  the  city's  curiously  inclined ;  the  opportunity 
afforded  the  guests,  emptied  the  numerous  inns;  and 
all  together,  when  mingled  under  myriads  of  bright 
lanterns,  amid  the  tinsel  and  the  noise,  it  was  a  sight 
most  glaring  and  intensely  interesting. 

Shibusawa  and  Okyo  had  edged  their  way  along 
for  some  time  and  until  they  had  passed  through  the 
main  shopping  districts  and  into  the  nokodos'  (mar- 
riage brokers')  quarters,  with  its  barren  little  stalls, 
narrow  doors,  and  large  gaudy  sign -poles  projecting 
like  charred  remnants  of  a  burned  brush  patch.  Here 
there  were  girls  in  silks  and  girls  in  rags,  all  being 
dragged  alike,  one  after  another,  in  long  rows,  by 
mothers  in  need  of  ready  cash,  before  the  several 
nokodos,  who  were  each  and  all  haggling  and  quarrel- 
ling over  the  price  of  this  or  the  qualities  of  that  one ; 
always  closing  the  bargain  if  closed  at  all  with  some 
ejaculation  expressing  great  sorrow  at  having  paid 
too  much  or  received  too  little  for  the  "honourable 
unhandsome  one."  Shibusawa  looked  on  for  a  while 
not  so  much  at  the  formality,  for  that  was  a  common 
thing,  but  at  the  attitude  of  the  parties,  which  im- 
pressed him  deeply.  He  could  understand  the 
brokers'  motive,  as  there  are  always  those  who  are 
designed  to  thrive  on  the  weakness  or  misfortune  of 
others  —  especially  when  the  law  makes  such  a  busi- 
ness legitimate  or  possible.  The  mothers  he  divined 
to  be  mostly  the  victims  of  too  generous  self-indul- 
gence; who  were  now  hardened  by  necessity  and 
excused  by  custom.  But  the  daughters  —  why  their 
complacency?  Was  it  a  decree  of  law  or  of  love  that 
caused  these  young  maidens,  some  of  them  beautiful, 
attractive,  or  intelligent,  to  exercise  the  most  stoical 
indifference  while  the  mother  was  bargaining  them 


Early  Life  19 

off  at  the  best  price  obtainable?  As  Shibusawa 
passed  them  by,  or  stood  and  looked,  his  heart 
throbbed  and  he  almost  said  aloud : 

"Can  this  be  God's  will?" 

Moving  on  with  some  difficulty  they  soon  came  to 
a  place  a  trifle  more  pretentious  than  others,  where 
they  unconsciously  entered  and  pushed  their  way 
close  to  the  nokodo  who  sat  on  the  floor  at  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  room.  After  several  offerings  had 
been  scanned  and  pinched  and  jostled,  then  bought 
or  passed,  a  middle-aged  woman  of  more  than  ordi- 
nary presence  first  hesitated,  then  advanced  and 
bowed  to  the  bejewelled  broker,  whose  keen,  sharp 
eyes  squinted  under  a  narrow,  wrinkled  brow.  A  rosy- 
cheeked,  innocent  young  daughter  of  fourteen  stood 
nestled  at  her  mother's  side,  blushing,  though  erect. 
Shibusawa  stood  contemplating  not  the  persons  but 
the  act,  and  when  the  mother  had  made  her  best 
plea  and  was  about  to  accept  the  price  offered  his 
strong  frame  shook,  his  face  whitened,  and  he  reso- 
lutely said  in  a  clear  voice  : 

"No;  I  will  give  you  three  hundred  yens  (dollars) 
besides  an  additional  one  hundred  to  bear  the 
charge." 

The  nokodo  was  more  than  pleased  to  get  the 
lawful  commission  without  assuming  any  risk,  and 
in  consequence  drew  up  the  proper  bill  of  sale  from 
Torimas,  mother  of  Shiyoganai,  to  Shibusawa,  a 
pilgrim. 

It  had  been  specified  and  provided  that  Shibusawa 
should  be  the  lawful  owner  of  Shiyoganai  for  a  period 
of  three  years  from  that  date,  and  that  in  considera- 
tion of  the  extra  one  hundred  yens  the  child  should 
remain  the  charge  of  her  mother.  When  properly 


2O  Shibusawa 

signed,  sealed,  and  delivered  Shibusawa  paid  over 
the  money  and  carefully  folded  the  document 
inside  his  girdle,  while  he  and  Okyo  then  went 
their  way  and  the  mother  and  daughter  returned  to 
their  home. 


CHAPTER   III 

MEETING    WITH    KINSAN 

SHIBUSAWA  returned  to  his  lodgings  shortly  after 
midnight,  and  soon  lay  down  to  sleep.  He  had 
seen  more  of  the  gay  side  of  life  than  ever  before,  and 
though  in  a  measure  not  averse  to  it  he  was  deeply 
impressed  with  some  of  the  incidents,  which  he 
thought  unnecessary  if  not  vicious.  And  now  that 
the  revelry  was  dying  out  and  the  night  regaining 
its  quietude  he  slept  soundly  until  a  late  hour.  When 
he  arose  he  pushed  back  the  sliding  partition,  and 
a  warm  burst  of  sunlight  streamed  into  the  room; 
the  air  was  balmy,  and  the  once  deserted  streets  were 
again  taking  on  renewed  life;  the  brocaded  hillside 
across  the  moat  in  front,  with  its  samurai  huts  and 
maple  trees,  waved  and  sparkled  with  a  thousand 
tints.  It  was  a  joyous  morning,  and  Shibusawa  ate 
and  drank  to  his  content  as  he  sat  and  watched  the 
oncoming  of  the  day's  festivities. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait,  though,  for  lyeyoshi, 
twelfth  Shogun,  was  more  noted  for  his  ceremonious 
punctuality  than  for  his  official  dignity;  there  had 
been  so  little  of  importance  to  mark  the  shogunate 
for  more  than  a  century  that  each  incumbent  had 
become  rather  indifferent  to  everything  except  pomp 
and  show.  Therefore  the  procession  began  to  move 
promptly  at  twelve  o'clock,  and  in  less  than  an  hour 
the  chair  of  state  came  up  to  the  inner  gate  and 
halted  —  as  did  also  each  detachment,  before  crossing 

21 


22  Shibusawa 

over  into  the  profane  world  —  so  that  his  royal 
highness  might  bow  and  pray  the  gods  for  a  happy 
going  and  safe  return.  Details  of  soldiery  and  squads 
of  officials,  interspersed  with  symbolic  banners  and 
huge  floats,  were  aligned  according  to  birth  and  rank, 
and  as  they  moved  along,  strange  incantations  or 
lamentations  arose  above  the  din  of  discordant  in- 
struments and  the  loud  shouts  of  excited  men,  who 
leaped  in  the  air  or  threw  themselves  upon  the  earth 
in  wild  exultation. 

Shibusawa  sat  and  watched  the  long  procession 
slacken  and  start  with  each  recurring  interruption, 
until  a  temporary  pause  brought  to  a  standstill 
directly  opposite  to  him  a  high  float  which  was  ar- 
ranged like  a  pyramid  and  covered  with  flowers, 
shrubs,  and  vines.  Amid  the  lotus  blossoms  in  the 
centre  there  sat  a  young  maiden  not  more  than  fifteen, 
who  wore  a  crown  of  maple  leaves  and  did  her  hair 
in  a  manner  to  indicate  that  she  was  yet  unmarried. 
Her  hair  was  black  and  abundant,  and  set  beautifully 
a  rosy  face  in  which  a  pair  of  large  dark  eyes  betok- 
ened tenderness,  if  a  little  serious.  Her  kimono  was 
of  soft  but  plain  material  and  folded  gracefully  about 
her,  and  she  quietly  sat  there  the  queen  of  the  shogun's 
garden,  though  only  the  daughter  of  its  keeper.  She 
did  not  turn  this  way  or  that  as  others  did  to  attract 
attention,  but  modestly  looked  at  the  beautiful 
things  around  her,  thinking  only  of  the  honours  due 
to  her  kind  and  beneficent  shogun,  for  whom  she  was 
then  being  privileged  to  do  homage. 

It  was  while  her  attention  was  thus  directed  that 
Shibusawa  first  saw  Kinsan.  She  sat  so  high  up 
among  the  flowers  as  to  be  almost  on  a  level  with  his 
place  of  sitting,  and  she  was  so  close  that  he  could 


Meeting  with  Kinsan  23 

have  spoken  to  her  had  he  dared  or  deigned  to  do  so. 
She  did  not  observe  his  keen  recognition  nor  was  she 
conscious  of  his  presence  until  the  carriers  began 
slowly  to  straighten  up  and  make  ready  to  go  forward. 
Then  as  if  by  intuition  she  turned  and  looked  toward 
him  and  as  she  did  so  his  eyes  fairly  met  hers.  Shibu- 
sawa  did  not  look  away,  but  became  more  intent  as 
her  soft  dark  eyelashes  drooped  and  a  faint  flush 
crept  into  her  cheek.  A  something  which  he  had 
never  before  experienced  came  upon  him,  and  for  the 
moment  he  felt  bewildered  and  unable  to  move  or 
speak,  and  when  the  float  had  gone  and  Kinsan  was 
lost  in  the  distance  he  made  an  effort  as  if  to  follow ; 
then  recovering  himself  he  lapsed  into  serious  thought. 

He  had  little  further  interest  in  the  parade  and 
gave  no  heed  to  it  until  the  high-raised  chair  and 
brilliant  trappings  of  the  shogun  himself  went  past. 
He  was  conscious  only  that  a  new  life  had  dawned: 
that  something  had  taken  hold  of  him  which  was  new 
to  his  being ;  something  which  seemed  to  wield  a  more 
powerful  influence  over  him  than  even  the  presence 
of  the  shogun  —  the  one  person  other  than  his  own 
kith  and  kin  whom  he  had  been  taught  to  revere  as 
supreme. 

The  stately  train  marched  along,  though  Shibu- 
sawa  had  dismissed  all  but  the  one  event ;  the  circum- 
stance that  raised  the  most  serious  problem  which  as 
yet  had  confronted  him. 

"Is  it  possible  after  all  that  there  is  something 
higher  and  better  than  kings  and  ancestors?"  thought 
he,  as  he  grappled  with  the  struggle  which  had  already 
seized  him.  "And  yet  the  instrument  of  that  some- 
thing but  a  woman?  What  thing  is  this  that  seems 
so  contrary  to  all  our  philosophy,  so  different  from 


24  Shibusawa 

our  religion,  yet  keenly  gnawing  at  my  very  inner 
self?  I  needs  must  find  out  and  if  possible  confront 
the  author;  the  one  who  has  so  impressed  me,  even 
though  she  be  but  a  woman  and  I  a  transgressor." 

So  saying  he  called  Okyo  and  proposed  that  they, 
too,  follow  the  line  of  march  to  the  river's  bank,  or  so 
far  as  they  might  be  permitted  to  go. 

By  this  time  great  crowds  of  sight-seers  had  fallen 
in  behind  the  procession,  and  Shibusawa  was  com- 
pelled to  take  his  place  with  the  rest  and  plod  along 
as  best  he  could.  The  route  traversed  was  along  an 
old  roadway,  which  wound  its  course  through  a 
thickly  inhabited  part  of  the  city,  coming  directly 
to  the  ancient  bridge  Ryozoku.  As  they  wended 
their  way  past  endless  rows  of  deserted  houses  or 
closed  shops,  amidst  streamers  and  bunting,  Shibu- 
sawa became  deeply  impressed  with  the  boundless 
patriotism  and  intense  loyalty  of  the  people.  Every- 
where they  were  doing  homage  and  nowhere  was 
heard  the  voice  of  discontent.  He  felt  more  than 
ever  proud  of  his  country,  and  realised  as  never  before 
the  importance  of  each  individual's  place. 

They  reached  the  river,  Sumida,  long  after  the 
last  of  the  courtiers  had  passed,  and  the  long  bridge 
was  then  so  thronged  as  to  be  impossible  of  further 
access.  Hence  they  abandoned  that,  the  choicest 
vantage  point,  and  remained  on  the  bank  of  the 
river,  from  which  they  got  only  an  indistinct  view  of 
the  shogun  and  his  suite  as  they  sailed  down  the 
river  in  their  gaily-decked  house-boats,  and  passed 
under  the  bridge,  the  crowning  feat  of  the  day.  Had 
they  been  closer  Shibusawa  might  have  recognised, 
in  a  boat  close  after  the  shogun 's,  familiar  faces  — 
the  same  that  escaped  him  earlier  in  the  day,  while 


Meeting  with  Kinsan  25 

he  sat  dreaming  of  Kinsan  and  the  accidental 
meeting. 

Now  that  the  most  exciting  feature  of  the  day  had 
passed,  Shibusawa's  thoughts  reverted  to  the  inci- 
dent which  had  so  deeply  impressed  him.  Try  as 
best  he  might  he  could  not  dismiss  it,  and  after  a 
while  he  became  anxious,  and  wondered  if  it  were 
possible  to  see  her  again;  and  if  he  should,  would  she 
recognise  him?  Then  he  said  to  himself: 

"Why  should  she  recognise  me?  And,  what  is 
more,  why  should  I  seek  to  see  her?" 

However,  he  did  try  to  see  her,  and  when  it  became 
certain  that  there  was  no  chance  of  doing  so  at  the 
river  he  grew  impatient,  though  more  determined. 
The  daylight  fireworks  floating  high  in  the  air;  the 
music,  the  songs,  and  the  laughter  wafted  from  the 
river;  the  dancing,  the  feasting,  and  the  merry-making 
on  shore,  ceased  to  be  of  interest,  and  by  the  time 
they  had  finished  a  light  luncheon  at  a  convenient 
tea  house  Shibusawa  became  anxious  to  return  to 
their  own  lodgings. 

He  had  made  up  his  mind  that  the  most  likely 
place  to  meet  the  young  maiden  a  second  time  was 
at  the  very  one  where  he  first  met  her.  There  she 
should  pass  while  returning  from  the  fete,  though 
under  what  circumstances  he  did  not  know.  And 
would  she  look  again,  or  had  she  not  remembered 
him?  These  and  many  more  were  the  questions 
which  Shibusawa  asked  himself  during  the  interval 
of  returning  and  waiting;  and  as  time  passed  he  grew 
uneasy.  Something  burned  within  him,  and  he  felt 
that  he  must  see  and  know  this  beautiful  woman. 
He  sat  quietly  in  his  rooms  thinking  only  of  her 
coming.  Presently  a  hurrying  and  gathering  upon 


26  Shibusawa 

the  street  signified  the  returning  of  the  royal  party; 
whereupon  Shibusawa  sprang  up  and  seated  himself 
at  the  balcony's  edge,  so  that  none  could  pass  with- 
out his  seeing  him. 

A  number  of  detachments  had  passed  in  order, 
and  then  Kinsan  came  as  before,  except  that  she 
was  accompanied  by  several  girl  friends  whom  she 
had  been  permitted  to  invite  with  her  on  the  return 
trip.  They  were  laughing  and  chatting  about  things 
which  pleased  them  most,  and  Kinsan 's  added  charms 
appealed  more  than  ever  to  Shibusawa.  He  leaned 
over  the  balcony,  as  if  drawn  toward  her  by  an  unseen 
hand,  and  prayed  that  in  some  way  her  attention 
might  be  drawn  to  him  and  that  he  might  once  more 
look  into  her  eyes,  if  only  for  an  instant. 

Kinsan  was  so  engaged  with  her  companions  that 
she  seemed  about  to  go  by  without  even  a  chance 
look,  and  as  she  came  closer  his  heart  appeared  almost 
to  stand  still;  though  he  was  soon  to  be  transported, 
for  when  directly  opposite,  Kinsan  gave  him  the  long 
looked  for  opportunity.  Nor  was  there  any  mistak- 
ing her  intention  for  mere  accident.  Shibusawa  read 
that  she  too  had  experienced  some  sort  of  feeling 
which  this  time  prompted  her  to  look,  and  to  mani- 
fest an  interest,  if  not  desire.  It  was  more  than  he 
could  bear  to  let  her  go  in  silence ;  she  would  not  stop 
again,  and  he  had  not  a  moment  to  lose;  he  felt 
that  he  must  speak  to  her  —  his  very  life  depended 
upon  it  —  he  knew  not  why,  nor  did  he  care.  He 
must  do  what  his  heart  told  him  to  do. 

Now  had  he  realised  his  present  position  Shibusawa 
might  not  have  done  what  he  was  about  to  do,  but 
with  his  whole  heart  set  upon  one  thing  he  for  the 
moment  forgot  himself,  and  ran  down  the  straight- 


Meeting  with  Kinsan  27 

set  stairs  and  out  at  the  front,  wholly  under  the  force 
of  blind  impulse.  Under  ordinary  circumstances 
there  would  have  been  no  breach  in  doing  what  he 
sought  to  do,  for  custom  gave  a  gentleman  the  right 
to  approach  an  inferior  without  the  least  formality. 

When  he  reached  the  street  he  found  it  difficult 
to  pass,  and  in  consequence  ran  close  to  the  moving 
column  and  toward  Kinsan.  Coming  almost  within 
reach  of  her  he  ran  against  an  officer  —  who  followed 
next  after  her  —  and  before  he  could  fully  recover 
his  balance  the  angered  samurai  whipped  out  his  long 
sword  and  struck  him  a  blow  that  felled  him ;  and  not 
being  satisfied  with  this  punishment  he  made  a  thrust 
at  the  prostrate  man  and  ran  him  through  to  the 
ground. 

Fortunately  Okyo  had  followed  close  after,  and 
upon  reaching  his  helpless  master  he  threw  himself 
in  front  and  personally  suffered  the  tramping  and 
jeering  of  the  curious  crowds  —  he  was  too  grieved 
and  thoughtless  to  offer  any  other  relief,  and  lay 
there  face  downward,  pulling  at  the  soiled  clothing 
and  crying,  "Shibusawa!  Shibusawa!" 

They  had  not  remained  in  that  situation  long, 
however,  till  the  lord  daimyo  of  Kanazawa  himself 
marched  up  —  his  carriers  stumbling  in  an  effort 
to  pass  the  stricken  Shibusawa  and  his  faithful  watch 
—  when  Okyo  cried  out  as  before  the  name  of  his 
master.  Maido,  only  too  accustomed  to  hearing  this 
same  distressing  cry,  would  have  gone  by  without 
heed  had  he  not  unmistakably  distinguished  the  name 
of  his  son.  He  listened  and  heard  it  again,  dis- 
tinctly recognising  Oyko's  voice.  Without  waiting 
to  call  a  halt  he  swung  open  the  door,  and  to  the 
amazement  of  all  leaped  to  the  ground. 


28  Shibusawa 

Divining  the  full  situation  the  lord  daimyo  quickly 
threw  himself  at  the  side  of  his  almost  lifeless  boy, 
and  raising  him  in  his  arms  called  for  water.  After 
reviving  him,  and  making  a  hasty  examination  of 
the  wound,  Maido  ordered  attendants  to  place  Shibu- 
sawa in  the  chair  and  hasten  with  him  to  his  own 
home. 


CHAPTER  IV 

COURSE    DETERMINED 

KINS  AN  had  fortunately  turned  toward  her  com- 
panions and  did  not  see  any  of  the  cruelty  of  the 
officer  who  so  hastily  invoked  his  authority.  Her 
sudden  exchange  of  glances  with  Shibusawa  was 
unobserved  by  the  rest  of  the  party,  and  as  they 
resumed  their  going  Kinsan  continued  in  her  former 
happy  mood,  betraying  only  now  and  then  a  slight 
flush,  or  an  indifferent  far-away  look.  Though  she 
was  deeply  impressed  she  had  not  attached  any  partic- 
ular significance  to  the  strange  meeting,  and  had  no 
thought  of  its  being  even  the  second  time  other  than 
accidental. 

The  returning  procession  broke  line  as  each  divi- 
sion passed  the  main  palace  door,  the  several  detach- 
ments proceeding  to  their  separate  destinations  as 
custom  or  convenience  might  require,  and  accordingly 
the  flower  float  was  carried  directly  to  the  home  of  its 
chosen  goddess.  The  house  occupied  by  Kinsan  and 
her  parents  was  a  little  red-lacquered  cottage  which, 
standing  at  the  farther  end  of  a  small  garden  plot, 
under  an  overhanging  cliff,  and  at  the  side  of  a  small 
brook  which  trickled  down  through  the  moss-cov- 
ered rocks,  was  almost  hidden  from  view  by  flowers, 
tall  bushes,  and  trailing  vines.  It  was  reached  by 
means  of  a  long,  narrow  path,  which  branched  off 
from  the  main  roadway  just  inside  the  last  gate  and 
below  the  citadel,  winding  its  way  around  the  hillside, 

29 


30  Shibusawa 

through  a  bit  of  woodland,  past  rocky  gorges,  and 
over  a  high,  lacquered  bridge,  terminating  at  the 
bamboo  gate  which  stood  in  front.  Here  Fujimoto, 
her  father,  had  been  permitted  to  live  with  his  family 
and  work  in  the  gardens  all  his  life-time  as  had  his 
father  and  grandfathers  for  many  generations  before 
him. 

Kinsan  had  never  before  been  favoured  with  any 
special  privileges,  and  except  for  her  rare  beauty  and 
sweet  disposition  she  might  not  have  been  selected 
to  represent  Asama,  goddess  of  flowers.  Though 
from  birth  her  playground  had  been  under  the  shadow 
of  the  great  shogun's  palace  she  had  never  before 
been  permitted  to  approach  him  so  closely,  and  if  he 
had  ever  even  by  accident  spoken  to  her  she  did  not 
remember  it.  However,  the  proximity  of  her  dwell- 
ing and  the  occupation  of  her  father  had  given  her 
entrance  to  all  parts  of  the  mysterious  enclosure,  and 
in  consequence  she  not  only  was  familiar  with  the 
buildings  and  grounds  but  knew  something  of  the 
habits  and  customs  of  all  the  household.  Her  bright 
simplicity  and  pleasing  manners  had  so  impressed 
others  that  she  was  well  known  to  all  of  the  servants 
and  to  many  of  the  attache's,  and  had  become  a 
favourite  among  them. 

Of  these  there  was  one  who  more  than  any  other 
took  a  fancy  to  Kinsan,  and  had  repeatedly  expressed 
other  than  a  passing  interest  in  her.  He  had  watched 
her  closely  for  more  than  two  years  and  already 
several  times  approached  her  father,  offering  to  buy 
the  little  maiden,  as  he  called  her,  at  a  liberal  price, 
to  serve  his  convenience  for  the  lawful  period  of  three 
years.  All  these  proposals  had  been  stoutly  refused, 
though  in  a  measure  favoured  by  the  mother  — 


Course  Determined  31 

thrifty  woman  —  who  was  not  only  captivated  by 
the  position  of  the  applicant  but  inclined  to  consider 
three  hundred  yens  of  more  service  to  the  family  than 
a  doubtful  daughter,  especially  that  there  were  three 
others  growing  up. 

Although  the  daughter  had  no  right  to  be  and 
never  was  a  party  to  any  of  these  negotiations  she  had 
heard  enough  to  convince  her  that  however  repulsive 
this  fellow,  Tetsutaisho,  might  be,  there  was  a  good 
prospect  of  her  being  compelled  sometime  to  sacrifice 
her  life  to  gratify  his  desires.  She  could  see  but  one 
hope,  and  that  was  in  her  father's  love.  Her  mother, 
poisoned  as  she  was,  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to  enter- 
tain the  base  proposal  in  the  presence  of  Kinsan  her- 
self, whose  innate  sense  of  propriety  had  each  time 
prompted  her  to  run  away,  with  a  blush  of  indignation. 
She  knew  that  he  had  been  instrumental  in  procuring 
for  her  the  honour  of  that  day,  and  yet  she  could  not 
thank  him,  for  she  well  realised  that  it  was  probably 
by  his  own  arrangement  that  he  and  his  detachment 
was  placed  in  line  next  after  her;  not  that  she  might 
thus  be  honoured,  but  that  he  might  gaze  upon  her 
there  in  her  helpless  situation;  for  now  that  she  had 
grown  older  and  knew  his  intentions  she  had  come  to 
regard  him  with  something  of  horror,  and  tried  as 
much  as  she  could  to  avoid  his  presence. 

Whether  Tetsutaisho  had  observed  the  glance  of 
recognition  which  passed  between  Shibusawa  and 
Kinsan  matters  not,  for  his  rank  in  the  shogun's  army 
permitted  him  to  strike  down  any  one  of  the  common 
people  who  dared  so  much  as  to  brush  against  his 
garment.  He  was  a  broad,  sunken-chested  man, 
nearly  six  feet  tall,  and  though  less  than  thirty  years 
of  age  wore  the  uniform  of  a  taisho  (minor  general) 


32  Shibusawa 

and  was  in  fact  a  favourite  of  the  shogun's.  There 
were  a  few  stiff,  blue-black  hairs  on  his  face  as  an 
excuse  for  a  beard,  and  a  pair  of  small  bullet  eyes 
glanced  furtively  or  hung  sullenly  from  his  coarse, 
brutal  countenance. 

When  Tetsutaisho  struck  Shibusawa  he  did  so 
intending  to  cut  him  down  as  an  example  of  author- 
ity —  and  as  a  warning  to  others  of  his  supposed 
class  —  and  thinking  he  had  killed  him  outright  with 
only  a  stroke  and  a  thrust  he  squared  about  and 
swaggered  on  with  his  chest  distended  and  his  head 
thrown  back. 

It  was  a  fortunate  circumstance  that  Okyo  was 
near  at  hand  when  Shibusawa  fell,  for  though  the 
thrust  was  not  a  vital  one,  it  was  dangerously  near 
the  heart  and  occasioned  considerable  loss  of  blood 
and  much  weakness.  The  blow  had  so  stunned  him 
that  he  lay  unconscious  and  not  only  in  the  way  of 
those  marching,  but  subject  to  the  cuffs  and  kicks 
of  his  fellows,  who  were  profuse  in  their  cries  of, 
' '  Shame  be  upon  the  etas ! 8  He  insulted  his  honourable 
superior!"  However,  Okyo's  faithfulness  and  the 
father's  coming  saved  him,  while  proper  treatment 
and  a  vigorous  constitution  soon  effected  his  com- 
plete recovery. 

Nor  was  it  any  the  less  luck  that  Maido  was  there, 
for  only  his  intense  patriotism  caused  the  lord  daimyo, 
in  the  uncertain  absence  of  his  son,  to  quit  his  com- 
fortable Kanazawa  place  and  repair  thus  early  to 
the  Tokyo  castle.  It  was  an  unusual  thing  for  him 
to  take  up  his  residence  at  the  capital  city  before 
late  in  the  autumn,  though  in  point  of  elegance  and 
diversion  of  thought  the  latter  home  far  surpassed 
the  former. 


Course  Determined  33 

This,  the  largest  and  oldest  of  the  several  daimyos' 
castles  at  Tokyo,  stood  inside  the  second  and  just 
outside  the  inner  moat  which  surrounded  the  palace. 
The  grounds  were  spacious,  and  lay  to  the  left  of  the 
main  driveway,  going  toward  the  palace,  close  up 
against  the  inner  moat.  Indeed,  it  was  the  choice 
of  a  gentle  slope  which  fringed  the  hill,  rising  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  moat,  within  the  sacred  enclosure 
above.  A  high  stone  battlement,  battered  and  over- 
grown, stood  sentinel  at  the  water's  edge,  and  all 
around  giant  cypress  and  strange  foliage  told  of 
another  day.  Here,  in  this  place,  was  builded  the 
official  seat  of  one  man,  a  daimyo,  now  Maido,  who 
was  the  most  favoured  and  courted  at  a  shogun's 
court,  and  who  commanded  the  wealth,  the  intel- 
lect, and  the  aspiration  of  a  thousand  years  of  un- 
broken, unknown,  and  unsatisfied  progress.  Its 
environment  spoke  for  the  present;  its  tombs,  of  the 
past. 

To  this  place,  with  such  circumstances,  Shibusawa 
was  carried,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  entered 
there;  a  coming  hoped  and  looked  for,  an  ambition 
cherished  and  nursed  by  his  father  until  it  had  become 
his  constant  dream;  and  yet  that  coming  was  to  be 
when  the  spark  of  life  seemed  all  but  dead.  Maido 
hastened  to  the  family  shrine  and  there  prayed  the 
good  god  Dajiza  to  grant  him  power  to  ward  off 
death's  evil  hand. 

Shibusawa's  rooms  were  at  the  upper  side  of  the 
main  court  building  (a  rambling  red-lacquered  struc- 
ture, with  curled  tile  roof)  overlooking  the  greensward 
and  battlement,  toward  where  Kinsan's  cottage 
nestled  in  the  nearby  woodland.  Here  he  lay  for  a 
long  time,  battling  against  death,  till  science  and 


34  Shibusawa 

care  had  overcome  danger,  then  his  vigorous  consti- 
tution rapidly  brought  on  a  complete  and  permanent 
recovery.  While  convalescing  he  would  often  sit 
chatting  with  his  father,  or  dreaming  of  things  now 
fast  crowding  upon  him:  the  poverty  and  the  toil; 
the  suffering  and  the  patriotism;  the  dormant  power 
and  the  helplessness  of  the  people  which  he  had 
everywhere  seen ;  his  own  new-born  love ;  the  ruthless 
force  of  an  officer  —  all  these  were  weighing  heavily 
upon  his  young  conscience,  which  already  flamed  with 
ambition. 

Shibusawa  did  not  dwell  upon  these  things,  though, 
while  conversing  with  his  father;  and  he  asked  no 
questions.  But  never  before  did  he  understand  so 
well  the  whole  philosophy  of  his  parent's  teachings, 
nor  grasp  so  firmly  the  force  of  his  logic  and  the 
meaning  of  all  their  institutions.  And  there,  and 
alone,  while  the  vigour  of  youth  yet  fired  the  contact 
of  life,  after  the  bloom  of  knowledge,  the  polish  of 
intercourse,  the  inspiration  of  travel,  he  determined 
his  course. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE    HIDDEN    CAVE 

TIME  began,  after  a  while,  to  drag  heavily  and 
Shibusawa  thirsted  for  a  change.  The  day 
Chayo,  moon  festival  (in  the  latter  part  of  September) , 
had  already  come,  and  while  sitting  in  the  evening 
with  his  favourite  sister,  Nehachibana,  he  half  spoke, 
half  meditated : 

"Do  you  think  I  could  go  out  to  see  the  moon  rise 
to-night?  You  know  it  is  Chayo,  and  I  want  to 
wander  off  by  myself  and  see  the  'grand  three.'  It 
will  enable  me  to  start  under  a  good  omen.  Pray 
come,  don't  say  'No,'  for  I  fear  I  shall  have  to  go 
anyway." 

Nehachibana  had  been  his  almost  constant  com- 
panion since  the  night  of  his  misfortune,  and  she  felt 
nervous  about  his  taking  any  undue  risk  now  that 
he  was  recovering  so  nicely.  She  was  tall  and  seri- 
ously earnest,  and  her  counsel  was  invariably  wel- 
comed by  her  energetic  brother,  though  not  always 
acted  upon.  Therefore  she  spoke  with  uncertain 
confidence  when  she  answered : 

"It  certainly  is  a  shame  to  stay  indoors  at  such 
a  time  and  upon  such  a  night  as  the  day  promises. 
You  are  now  somewhat  accustomed  to  the  open  air, 
and  if  you  do  not  remain  too  long  I  can  see  no  danger. 
I  myself  am  going  out  upon  the  green  there,  below 
the  house,  and  I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  for  com- 
pany. Come  join  me,  will  you  not?" 

35 


36  Shibusawa 

"No,  thank  you;  I  want  to  be  alone,  for  once.  I 
shall  go  inside  the  gate  to  find  a  good  lookout  there, 
on  the  hillside.  It  is  a  splendid  chance  —  and  there 
will  not  be  so  many  sight-seers  there.  Few  of  those 
on  the  inside  engage  in  so  light  a  diversion,  and  from 
the  outside  —  well,  only  those  who  can  enter  can 
stroll." 

"Oh,  Shibusawa,  how  can  you  think  of  venturing 
in  there!  You  know  it  is  absolutely  forbidden,  and 
the  guards  may  beat  you  down,  should  you  try," 
said  she,  her  voice  trembling  with  fright. 

"Have  no  fear,  Nehachibana;  I  am  already  on 
more  than  friendly  terms  with  those  fellows,  and  I 
assure  you  when  once  inside  there  is  no  danger  of 
discovery.  I  want  to  go  there,  where  I  can  see  and 
think  without  molestation,  and  you  know  nothing  less 
can  rid  me  of  my  good  fellow  Okyo.  And  then,  the 
adventure.  That  will  be  stimulating,  and  I  shall 
tell  you  all  about  it  to-morrow.  There,  now,  let  us 
not  discuss  it  further.  Good-night." 

Later  in  the  evening  Shibusawa,  as  planned,  passed 
through  the  gate  and  entered  the  august  enclosure, 
where  lived  the  only  earthly  being  whom  he  had  been 
taught  to  revere  above  his  own  ancestry.  True,  the 
mikado 9  had  received  no  less  a  consideration,  but 
his  was  of  a  divine  character.  The  one,  the  mikado, 
spiritual;  the  other,  the  shogun,  material:  both,  rulers 
supreme  and  eternal. 

Upon  entering  the  sacred  place  a  mist  of  uncer- 
tainty seemed  to  envelop  him  and,  though  there 
was  no  particular  wrong  in  his  doing  so  even  in  such 
a  manner,  he  felt  as  if  he  were  unprepared,  and  that 
his  presence  might  profane  the  place.  Contrary  to 
any  precedent,  while  entering  he  chatted  freely  with 


The  Hidden  Cave  37 

the  guards  on  duty  and  did  not  hesitate  to  disclose 
his  identity;  nor  did  he  in  any  manner  attempt  to 
deceive.  His  motives  were  pure  and  his  means  con- 
vincing; the  guards  had  occasion  to  trust  him,  hence 
they  passed  him.  No  mention  had  been  made  of 
his  noticeably  injured  condition,  for  the  very  good 
reason  that  no  questions  had  been  asked;  and,  beside 
his  father,  to  whom  Shibusawa  had  made  a  full  ex- 
planation, the  cause  and  manner  of  his  wounding 
remained  unknown  to  all,  excepting  himself,  and 
possibly  the  man  who  did  the  striking.  Before  start- 
ing he  had  changed  his  customary  dress  for  that  of 
an  ordinary  attendant,  so  that  had  he  been  discov- 
ered in  the  grounds  anywhere  not  forbidden  he  might 
have  been  taken  for  a  regular  attache";  especially 
inasmuch  as  he  was  again  well  tanned  and  somewhat 
rugged. 

Keeping  to  the  left  as  was  the  custom,  Shibusawa 
strolled  along  the  main  roadway  until  he  came  to  a 
path  which  chanced  to  be  the  one  leading  toward  the 
gardener's  cottage.  As  he  walked  along  in  that 
silent  mysterious  dusk  he  had  passed  unnoticed  sev- 
eral who  were  each  on  his  way  to  the  city  outside 
either  to  keep  an  engagement  or  seek  diversion  from 
the  monotony  of  court  life.  Now  and  then  the 
rattling  of  a  sword-hilt  or  the  clanking  of  steel  warned 
him  of  the  rank  and  occupation  of  the  passerby.  A 
slight  faintness  came  over  him  as  the  first  sound  of 
one  had  grated  upon  his  ears,  and  then  his  under- 
standing changed  and  he  felt  something  of  pity  for 
the  man  whose  only  means  of  a  livelihood  seemed  to 
be  the  striking  of  his  fellow-men. 

Taking  the  cottage  roadway  he  gladly,  and  with 
more  leisure,  plodded  along  the  hillside  until  he  came 


38  Shibusawa 

to  a  bypath  which  led  off  to  his  right  and  seemingly 
rose  over  a  cliff  farther  on.  The  desire  for  adventure 
as  well  as  a  better  chance  of  being  let  alone  prompted 
him  to  follow  this  path,  and  as  he  trod  upon  the  soft, 
beaten  mould  his  sandals  made  no  sound  save  now 
and  then  an  accidental  rasping  or  the  occasional 
rattling  of  a  fallen  leaf.  Nothing  but  quickened 
thoughts  disturbed  him  here,  until  presently  he  came 
to  a  rustic  bridge  which  crossed  a  dancing  brooklet 
that  faintly  moaned  and  cried  on  its  way.  Half 
doubtful  he  stepped  upon  the  beaten  plank,  and  the 
sound  aroused  from  her  reverie  a  young  maiden  who 
stood  midway  on  the  bridge,  and  whom  he  had  not 
until  then  observed.  She  turned  as  he  proceeded, 
and  then  he  recognised  her  and  cried  out: 

"My  honourable  maiden." 

Kinsan,  too,  had  stolen  away  and  gone  there  that 
she,  also,  might  have  the  good  luck  to  see  the  moon 
rise  in  her  majestic  form  of  three.  She  had  been 
standing  she  knew  not  how  long  in  the  centre  of  the 
bridge,  with  her  elbows  resting  on  the  side  rail  and 
her  dimpled  cheeks  buried  in  her  hands,  watching  and 
dreaming  as  only  one  of  her  age  can,  and  already 
there  was  beginning  to  shadow  from  above  that 
mysterious,  awe  inspiring  grey  blue  which  hovers 
between  the  last  of  twilight  and  the  coming  of  moon- 
rise.  Perhaps  she  also  was  thinking  of  one  who  had 
risen  in  her  life,  yet  of  whom  she  could  not  hope  to 
know.  Thus  startled  she  did  not  recognise  Shibu- 
sawa, nor  did  she  attempt  to  move,  but  stood  there 
undecided,  while  he,  blushing  perceptibly,  said  in  a 
reassuring  tone: 

"I  pray  your  forgiveness,  madam,  for  so  disturbing 
you.  My  name  is  Shibusawa,  and  I  beg  of  you  the 


The  Hidden  Cave  39 

pleasure  of  knowing  who  you  are  and  what  brings 
you  here  to  this  lovely  spot  at  this  delightful  hour?" 

Seeing  that  she  hesitated  as  if  debating  what  to  do 
he  continued: 

' '  I  pray  you  to  believe  me  worthy,  and  to  trust  my 
motive,  my  honourable  madam." 

Though  Kinsan  did  not  yet  recognise  her  strange 
visitor  she  was  not  alarmed;  there  was  something 
about  him  that  invited  her  confidence,  and  before  she 
realised  it  she  had  raised  her  eyes  to  his  and  there 
in  the  glimmer  of  the  starlight  had  experienced  the 
same  feeling  which  had  held  her  bounden  since 
the  time  of  their  first  meeting.  The  suddenness  of 
the  recognition  and  the  fulness  of  her  soul  caused  her 
to  blush,  and  to  stand  meekly  with  drooping  eyes 
and  head  bowed.  Then  she  said  modestly: 

"I  am  Kinsan,  the  gardener's  daughter.  I  came 
here  to  see  the  beautiful  moon  rise,  should  it  be  so 
kind  and  I  so  fortunate.  I  do  not  know  who  you 
are,  but  I  trust  and  I  believe  you  will  permit  me  to 
pass  without  harm.  I  have  parents  who  love  me, 
and  I  know  you  are  of  our  faith.  I  trust  you,  hon- 
ourable sir,  to  speak  further  if  you  so  desire." 

" I  thank  you,"  said  he,  "for  your  frank  expressions, 
and  I  swear  by  the  sword,  Amanosakohoko,  that  I 
shall  endeavour  to  merit  your  confidence.  May  I  not 
spread  this  robe  so  that  we  can  sit,  and  further  speak 
to  each  other  while  waiting  the  moon's  pleasure?" 

"You  may  do  so  if  you  like,  but  I  should  tell  you 
that  it  is  unsafe  unless  you  have  permission  from 
a  better  authority.  There  is  one  who  sometimes 
passes  here,  and  should  he  discover  you  I  fear  his 
cruelty  might  be  no  less  severe  than  my  interest 
is  great.  If  you  do  not  mind  a  short,  steep  climb  I 


40  Shibusawa 

will  lead  the  way  to  a  secluded  spot  near  by  where  we 
can  get  a  still  better  view  and  also  guard  against  being 
vseen.  I  was  just  going  there,  and  no  one  will  miss  me 
at  home  until  the  hour  has  gone.  Shall  I  proceed?" 

"I  certainly  shall  be  glad  to  trust  myself  to  your 
guidance,  and  if  it  is  not  too  hard  for  you  to  go  there 
it  ought  not  to  be  for  me." 

"You  see,"  said  Kinsan,  as  she  led  the  way  back 
across  the  bridge  and  began  climbing  the  hill  above, 
"there  is  no  pathway  to  follow.  That  is  because  no 
one  but  myself  ever  goes  there,  and  I  take  pains  not 
to  establish  a  road  and  thus  provide  the  means  to 
a  discovery  of  my  hidden  place." 

After  leaving  the  by-path  they  scrambled  up  with 
some  difficulty  over  the  embankment  and  through 
a  brier  patch  into  the  woodland  beyond.  Hereafter 
their  passage  through  the  scattering  trees  was  quite 
easy,  except  the  long  grass  and  sloping  hill  made  it 
necessary  for  them  to  choose  well  their  steps,  and 
as  they  went  they  chatted  with  no  concern  or  acci- 
dent to  mar  their  pleasures  or  stay  the  confidence 
that  was  so  rapidly  growing  between  them.  The 
balmy  air,  the  inviting  scenery,  the  romantic  occa- 
sion, all  inspired  those  feelings  of  trust  which  come 
of  more  than  understanding  and  which  are  never 
abused. 

Once  Kinsan  slipped  a  little  and  threw  out  her 
arms  to  recover  her  balance.  As  if  by  instinct  Shibu- 
sawa was  at  her  side  and  caught  her  hand  in  his  just 
in  time  to  save  a  fall;  the  soft  skin  told  him  of  her 
good  breeding,  and  the  warm  blood  of  her  perfect 
health.  He  held  it  gently,  a  little  longer,  perhaps, 
than  necessary  to  stay  her  fall,  and  then  he  did  not 
drop  it  nor  did  she  take  it  away,  but  as  if  moved  by 


The  Hidden   Cave  41 

an  unseen  power  and  with  feelings  sweeter  than  life 
itself  started  on,  and  Kinsan  did  not  fall  or  lose  her 
balance  again  that  night. 

"Oh,  what  a  grand  place  it  is!"  said  he,  as  she  led 
him  to  a  seat  on  one  side  looking  out  over  a  panorama 
of  woodland  and  battlement  and  castle  ground  and 
city  far  away  toward  the  rising  moon. 

The  place  to  which  Kinsan  led  captive  was  an  old 
abandoned  nook,  which  had  centuries  before  been 
used  as  a  sight-seeing  retreat  by  no  less  a  personage 
than  the  shogun  himself.  It  lay  far  up  on  the  hill- 
side in  a  small  level  space  that  rounded  out  at  the 
head  of  a  miniature  gulch,  through  which  ran  the 
rivulet  spanned  by  the  bridge  where  the  lovers  met. 
The  site,  now  dry  and  hard,  was  once  the  source  of  a 
natural  spring,  which  had  long  ago  disappeared 
through  a  tunnel  made  farther  down  the  declivity. 
It  was  an  ideal  place  for  a  hidden  cave,  such  as  it 
really  appeared  to  be  and  as  Kinsan  called  it;  and 
the  shogun  under  whose  direction  it  was  improved  had 
spared  no  expense  to  make  it  a  place  of  beauty  as 
well  as  seclusion. 

A  retaining  wall  at  the  back,  —  in  which  were  con- 
structed wide  and  comfortable  stone  seats,  —  rounded 
up  at  both  corners  and  arched  over  in  front,  while 
trees  and  vines  had  been  so  planted  here  and  there 
as  to  shade  the  sun  or  break  the  storm,  without  in  any 
manner  obstructing  the  view.  Some  of  these  giant 
trees  still  stood,  marking  the  grandeur  of  a  different 
age.  Others  had  fallen  and  long  ago  disappeared, 
while  vines  and  shrubs  had  grown  and  regrown  into 
tangled  gnarls  of  brush  and  brier.  All  trace  of  its 
once  gravelled  approach  and  smooth  floor  had 
vanished  with  age,  and  no  other  person  now  found 


42  Shibusawa 

his  way  there  except  by  merest  chance  or  a  curious 
reverence. 

Kinsan  was  the  cave's  only  regular  visitor  and, 
jealously,  she  took  every  precaution  to  avoid  attract- 
ing any  attention  to  it.  Unlike, her  sisters  and  her 
girl  friends  she  wanted  some  place  to  which  she  could 
go  and  be  by  herself,  and  there  indulge  in  that  freedom 
which  made  her  so  different  from  others  as  well  as 
the  envy  of  all  who  knew  her.  She  had  with  her  own 
hands  cleared  the  place  of  briers  and  fallen  debris, 
and  had  carried  straw  and  mats  there  to  cover  and 
make  more  comfortable  a  seat.  Why,  she  did  not 
know,  but  she  loved  different  things  from  those 
which  pleased  the  people  whom  she  knew,  and  at 
times  she  longed  to  breathe  a  different  atmosphere 
and  to  think  new  thoughts  and  experience  other 
feelings.  And  now  that  this  queer  little  house  of 
hers  contained  another  —  one  in  whom  all  her  senti- 
ments seemed  to  enliven  and  to  crystallise  —  her 
heart  filled  and  there  rose  within  her  a  new  being, 
whose  love  and  innocence  and  purity  and  sweetness 
shone  forth  like  a  flood-light  of  truth. 

Shibusawa,  too,  felt  the  irresistible  oncoming  of 
that  new  life  which  had  taken  hold  of  him  the  first 
time  he  saw  Kinsan;  nor  did  he  try  to  dissuade  it, 
for  in  it  he  saw  and  felt  the  force  of  nature,  the  power 
of  Infinity. 

They  sat  there  and  talked  and  thought  of  things 
that  were  sweet  and  dear  to  them.  Only  once  were 
they  disturbed,  and  that  was  shortly  after  they  had 
gone  there  and  while  they  were  sitting  and  dreaming 
as  only  true  lovers  can.  It  was  just  when  the  light 
and  dark  seemed  most  uncertain  and  everything 
mysteriously  told  of  a  parting  and  welcomed  an 


The  Hidden   Cave  43 

oncoming.  A  cloud  lazily  floated  overhead,  turning 
its  golden  fringe  into  a  border  of  silver.  Not  a  leaf 
rustled  or  a  note  sounded  on  the  hollow  air.  Not 
even  they  seemed  conscious  of  another  living  thing, 
when  out  of  the  stillness  there  came  the  unmistakable 
sound  of  a  man  walking  rapidly  in  a  silk  kimono. 

"Swish,  swish,  swish,"  continued  grating  upon 
Shibusawa's  ear,  each  time  more  distinct,  and  he 
half  rose  to  his  feet  as  if  ready  to  bound  upon  an 
enemy.  Kinsan  caught  hold  of  his  kimono  and 
whispered  : 

"Do  not  be  disturbed.  I  have  heard  it  before, 
and  I  can  tell  from  the  sound  just  who  it  is  and  about 
where  he  is  walking:  he  is  now  on  the  by-path  not 
far  from  the  bridge  where  we  last  met.  If  he  turns 
this  way  I  shall  warn  you  in  time  so  that  we  can  hide 
in  a  secret  place  I  have  found  out  just  above  this. 
It  is  easy  of  access,  and  he  never  could  find  us  there. 
It  is  grown  over  with  an  old  wisteria  and  is  out  of 
reach  of  that  one,  I  am  sure." 

The  man  in  the  by-path  continued  to  walk  briskly 
along,  keeping  a  close  watch  on  either  side.  He 
seemed  to  be  quite  nervous  and  anxious,  though  he 
moved  with  determination  and  evinced  a  fixed  pur- 
pose. His  course  led  him  around  the  gulch  so  far 
below,  and  they  were  so  hidden  behind  the  trees,  that 
they  were  seldom  exposed  to  his  view,  yet  they  them- 
selves could  see  and  distinguish  even  the  features 
of  any  person  well  impressed  upon  the  memory.  The 
intruder  did  not  pause  until  he  had  reached  the  foot- 
bridge, where  only  a  short  time  before  Shibusawa 
and  Kinsan  had  met,  and  then  he  stopped  and  looked 
as  if  expecting  to  see  someone.  Once  he  stared 
momentarily  straight  toward  the  cave,  and  had  he 


44  Shibusawa 

been  aware  of  such  a  place  he  might  have  distin- 
guished the  two  sitting  there  only  partially  shielded 
by  the  bushes.  Shibusawa  as  it  was  had  the  advan- 
tage, and  looked  the  stranger  directly  in  the  face.  He 
trembled,  then  leaned  forward  and  stared  intently. 

"Pray  do  not  be  alarmed,"  said  Kinsan,  in  a  low 
voice,  already  divining  his  keen  interest.  "Even 
though  he  see  us  and  should  come  this  way  we  are 
yet  safe.  My  hiding-place  will  not  fail  me." 

"If  I  mistake  not,"  answered  Shibusawa,  "we  shall 
have  no  need  for  hiding  —  I  have  at  least  a  more 
satisfactory  thought." 

"Oh,  no,  honourable  sir,  we  must  not  be  seen  by 
him!"  said  Kinsan,  nervously.  "He  is  such  a  ter- 
rible man;  and  very  powerful  and  brave,  they  say. 
If  he  should  discover  me  here,  and  at  this  hour,  and 
in  the  company  of  a  man  —  oh,  how  late  it  is  getting! 
I  think  I  must  be  going." 

"Then  you  know  him,  do  you?"  asked  Shibusawa, 
quickly  and  interestedly,  though  speaking  in  an 
undertone. 

"Oh,  yes;  I  know  him  well,"  said  she,  without  any 
hesitancy. 

"And  he  is  seeking  you  here?  and  now?  I  shall 
meet  him  forthwith." 

"Yes,  he  often  does,  and  I  am  so  glad  — " 

"Aha,  and  I  am  so  nicely  trapped!"  said  he,  medi- 
tatively. 

She  did  not  answer  him,  for  the  reason  that  she 
did  not  understand  him,  and  without  so  doing  there 
was  no  occasion  for  an  answer.  He  said  nothing, 
but  sat  for  the  moment  alternating  between  rage  and 
jealousy.  He  looked  at  the  burly  form  on  the  bridge, 
then  at  Kinsan.  He  thought  of  his  love,  then  of  his 


The   Hidden   Cave  45 

wounding.  He  at  first  determined  to  accuse  her  and 
fly  at  his  antagonist,  but  afterwards  reasoned  that 
there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  haste,  and  also 
that  possibly  he  might  be  misinformed,  if  not  entirely 
wrong. 

Their  visitor  soon  turned  around,  his  back  toward 
them,  and  as  if  disappointed  at  the  prospect  hung 
himself  upon  the  bridge  rail  and  stared  vacantly  at 
the  distant  horizon.  Presently  he  straightened  up 
and  slowly  walked  away;  and  not  until  he  had  en- 
tirely gone  did  either  Shibusawa  or  Kinsan  speak; 
nor  would  they  yet  have  resumed  talking  had  Shibu- 
sawa been  the  first  to  begin.  He  still  pondered  a 
doubt  about  the  real  circumstance,  though  his  faith 
in  Kinsan  strengthened  as  he  himself  recovered. 

"I  am  so  glad  he  has  gone  away.  Oh,  if  he  would 
only  not  come  back!  Did  he  frighten  you  much?" 
said  she,  her  voice  betraying  her  anxiety. 

"I  cannot  say  that  I  was  so  much  as  frightened, 
though  I  feel  better  now  that  he  has  gone,"  said  he, 
evasively.  "Why,  Kinsan,  you  do  look  pleased,  and 
I  really  believe  you,  too,  are  glad  to  be  rid  of  him. 
It  is  unfortunate  that  he  came  just  at  this  time  —  I 
wonder  if  my  being  here  influenced  his  coming?  Still, 
I  hardly  believe  it  could  have  done  so,  because  I  do 
not  even  know  his  name,  much  less  does  he  know  me." 

"Oh,  no.  That  was  Tetsutaisho,  an  officer  in 
the  shogun's  army,"  said  Kinsan,  assuringly  and 
without  divining  Shibusawa's  purpose,  "  and  I  am 
certain  it  was  not  because  you  were  here  that  he 
came.  And  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  here!  I  am 
lonely  when  I  sit  here  by  myself,  and  now  —  you  will 
come  again,  will  you  not?" 

Shibusawa  did  not  answer  her  at  once,  but  turned 


46  Shibusawa 

and  looked,  and  her  soft  true  eyes  looked  into  his, 
and  he  saw  how  cruel  he  had  been  to  let  suspicion 
enter  his  heart  and  how  unworthy  of  her  confidence 
he  had  been.  Then  all  his  manhood  rose  and  his 
thoughts  became  pure  and  his  feelings  true,  and  his 
courage  spoke  as  he  said: 

"Yes." 

The  moon  had  risen,  and  —  how  could  they  have 
seen  it  other  than  as  it  was,  a  good  omen?  for  they 
two  and  it  made  three. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    PLEDGE 

SHIBUSAWA  and  Kinsan  sat  in  their  place  and 
gazed  at  the  beautiful  moon  as  it  rose,  now  un- 
folding a  deeper  meaning,  teaching  a  sweeter  lesson. 
Chayo  was  no  longer  to  them  only  a  mystic  rite,  but 
a  living,  eternal  symbol  of  life's  greatest  joy,  and 
when  they  had  seen  all  and  felt  its  power  they  arose 
and  parted,  true  to  themselves  and  pleased  with 
their  good  fortune.  Shibusawa,  though,  returned  to 
his  house  fully  aware  of  the  responsibilities  which  he 
had  assumed  and  deeply  impressed  with  their  prob- 
able consequences;  yet  he  realised  that  the  circum- 
stances which  had  brought  about  this  irresistible 
situation  were  conceived  directly  within  his  own 
heart,  and  that  he  could  not  and  should  not  escape 
their  natural  and  just  conclusion.  He  loved  Kinsan, 
and,  whether  right  or  wrong  in  that  love,  he  must 
know  a  higher  virtue  before  he  could  in  justice  to 
himself  surrender  what  seemed  to  him  purely  a 
liberty  of  conscience. 

Nor  would  his  love  be  unrequited,  for  he  saw  in 
Kinsan  the  same  unknown  force  which  had  moved 
him  and  held  him  its  willing  victim.  She  too  was  a 
slave  to  its  inevitable  decree,  and  now  that  they  had 
witnessed  in  each  other  that  repose  of  confidence 
necessary  to  a  perfect  understanding,  he  must  not  let 
love,  a  higher  purpose,  fail  at  the  bidding  of  family  or 

47 


48  Shibusawa 

state,  nor  allow  himself  to  halt  in  his  proper  pursuit 
at  the  voice  of  tradition  or,  said  he : 

"Even  by  the  law's  decree;  for  after  all,  'Is  law 
higher  than  our  understanding?" 

Having  decided  not  to  swerve  from  his  course 
Shibusawa  began  to  plan  the  means  whereby  he  could 
meet  Kinsan  and  be  with  her  as  much  as  prudence 
would  allow.  He  longed  to  be  near  her  and  to  share 
with  her  his  thoughts  and  gain  her  approval,  but  in 
doing  so  he  must  encounter  many  hardships  and 
much  danger.  Both  statute  and  custom  bade  him 
marry  the  woman  selected  only  by  his  parents,  and 
to  woo  any  other  and  in  such  a  manner  was  deemed  a 
most  serious  breach,  subject  to  a  severe  penalty.  He 
needs  must,  therefore,  employ  strategy,  for  there  was 
no  other  means  of  meeting  Kinsan,  and  even  that 
could  never  make  her  his  wife.  The  laws  of  his 
country  were  rigid,  and  his  parents,  like  others,  inex- 
orable on  that  subject;  and  Shibusawa  was  not  un- 
mindful of  either,  nor  of  his  duty  toward  society ;  yet 
he  was  undaunted,  and  could  see  no  wrong  in  his 
loving  the  woman  of  his  choice,  so  long  as  that  one 
brought  neither  disgrace  to  his  family  nor  failure  to 
himself;  neither  of  which  was  probable  from  his  way 
of  thinking  —  and  had  he  a  right  to  think?  That 
was  one  of  the  questions  which  had  determined 
Shibusawa's  course,  and  it  now  became  a  burning 
factor  in  his  life. 

The  hidden  cave  was  their  rendezvous,  and  Kinsan 
grew  to  live  for  the  happiness  its  welcome  shelter 
gave.  There,  the  sweet  voice  of  love  whispered  and 
rewhispered  the  new  song  that  soothed  and  quickened 
and  held  her  captive,  for  Shibusawa  came  faith- 
fully and  constantly,  each  recurring  visit  deepening 


The  Pledge  49 

his  love,  every  serious  obstacle  strengthening  his 
determination. 

Time  passed  quickly  and  each  returning  season  lent 
anew  its  never  dying  symbol,  for  to  them  autumn's 
master  flower,  the  chrysanthemum,  meant  in  truth 
loyalty,  sincerity,  and  earnestness.  When  these  days 
had  passed  and  winter  come  Shibusawa  sang  to  her 
the  song  of  the  pine  and  its  fidelity,  the  bamboo  and 
its  elasticity,  the  plum  and  its  courage,  vigour,  and 
reputation.  Then  spring  brought  in  its  train  the 
cherry,  the  peach,  the  pear,  the  primrose,  the  peony, 
the  wisteria,  each  in  turn  adding  its  voice,  for  the 
cave  stood  in  the  midst  of  bloom,  everywhere  doing 
its  part  in  the  beautiful  fulfilment  of  a  divine  promise. 

Yes,  spring  had  come  and  with  it  the  budding  and 
the  joy  of  creation.  It  was  now  April,  the  day  of  the 
cherry  blossom,  and  the  sun  had  gone  down  behind 
the  hills  and  the  stars  were  twinkling  their  story. 
Two  lovers  sat  close  together  —  the  one  ambitious, 
courageous;  the  other  obedient,  loyal  —  both  joyous, 
but  earnest.  Her  hand  rested  in  his  and  he  bent 
over  and  whispered: 

"  Kinsan,  I  love  you.  I  love  you  with  a  heart  that 
is  pure  and  true.  I  love  you  with  all  my  life,  my 
soul  voices  it.  I  think  of  you  always  —  the  one 
constant  thought  of  my  life  —  my  hope,  my  happiness, 
my  existence.  Speak,  Kinsan,  speak  and  tell  me  that 
this  is  not  a  hopeless  fancy.  Tell  me  that  you  love 
me.  Tell  me  that  you  will  be  my  wife,  my  love,  my 
sweetheart,  my  all." 

She  leaned  forward  and  laid  her  rosy  cheek  upon 
his  bosom,  and  with  her  eyes  softly  upturned  she 
whispered : 

"Yes." 


50  Shibusawa 

He  stooped  down  and  kissed  her,  and  in  the  warmth 
of  those  lips  she  saw  a  world  of  joys;  he,  the  beginning 
of  earnest  life.  The  kiss  was  unknown  to  them,  but 
it  came  as  the  spontaneous  outpouring  of  a  true  affec- 
tion, the  token  of  a  master  passion;  and  in  that 
embrace  there  dawned  a  new  light,  the  opening  of 
another  world. 


CHAPTER  VII 

AN    UNEXPECTED    COMMAND 

WHILE  Shibusawa  had  been  constant  and  true  in 
his  attentions  he  had  never  apprised  Kinsan  of 
his  real  position,  nor  of  the  difficulties  which  stood  in 
the  way  of  their  marriage.  That  he  was  worthy 
there  could  be  no  doubt  in  her  mind,  and  she  only 
knew  that  she  loved  him  —  loved  him  as  they  were 
and  with  no  thought  of  what  might  or  would  befall 
them.  Instinct  was  enough  to  keep  both  from 
mentioning  their  affairs  to  any  others,  for  such  a 
thing  as  mutual  regard  was  by  right  or  practice 
unknown  in  the  land;  hence  must  have  been  deemed 
improper,  especially  by  the  parents,  and  there  were 
no  others  to  whom  they  could  or  should  confide  their 
secrets.  Whether  allowable  or  not,  and  without  any 
real  knowledge  of  the  consequences,  their  love  had 
grown  and  manifested  itself  in  its  own  mysterious 
way,  and  they  were  destined  as  they  were  to  meet  an 
uncertain  fate. 

Very  wisely  Shibusawa  had  not  in  the  meantime 
neglected  any  of  his  proper  relations  at  home,  but  on 
the  contrary  entered  into  life  with  an  earnestness  that 
was  not  only  to  his  father,  but  to  others  of  the  family 
and  to  his  friends,  a  great  source  of  joy.  Whether  at 
the  Koyo-odori  (maple  dance  for  girls),  or  at  the 
New  Year's  feast,  or  at  any  of  the  many  fetes  of  the 
season,  his  interest  was  equally  keen  and  his  presence 
always  sought.  Nor  did  he  neglect  his  personal 

Si 


52  Shibusawa 

improvement,  for  all  of  his  time  and  energy  not 
devoted  to  Kinsan  and  his  social  duties  were  expended 
in  an  orderly  quest  for  knowledge;  not  of  a  theo- 
retical nature,  but  of  that  practical,  satisfying  kind 
that,  whether  for  good  or  for  ill,  moves  the  world. 

Maido  had  observed  with  keen  interest  all  these 
healthy  activities  of  his  son  and  was  proud  of  his 
achievements  and  offered -him  every  encouragement 
within  his  power.  No  particular  attention  had  been 
paid  to  Shibusawa's  future  other  than  properly  to  fit 
him  for  the  place  destined  for  him,  and  such  a  thing 
as  the  young  prince's  marriage  had  never  seriously 
entered  his  father's  mind.  Since  the  birth  of  his  rising 
successor  Maido  had  always  hoped  to  avoid  the  neces- 
sity of  sometime  being  compelled  to  sacrifice  his  son's 
or  his  own  happiness  to  gratify  the  pleasure  or  conven- 
ience of  the  court,  though  he  might  at  any  time  have 
been  prompted  to  do  as  much  by  an  extreme  test  of 
loyalty.  As  far  as  the  lord  daimyo's  own  interests 
were  concerned  there  had  as  yet  appeared  no  need  for 
matrimonial  alliances  of  any  kind,  and  not  until 
political  discontent  began  to  arise  in  the  south  had 
he  been  called  upon  to  concern  himself  particularly 
about  outside  affairs.  He  had  personally  held  aloof 
from  all  entangling  alliances,  and  aside  from  his 
duties  at  court  devoted  himself  to  the  upbuilding 
and  preservation  of  his  own  prefecture,  which  was 
now  so  strong  and  prosperous  that  it  could  reasonably 
be  expected  to  stand  of  its  own  accord. 

There  was  the  best  of  feeling  and  good  content 
everywhere  at  home,  and  when  there  Maido  himself 
might  at  any  time  be  seen  among  his  workmen  encour- 
aging thrift  and  economy,  while  all  of  the  new  ideas 
were  regularly  taught  by  learned  instructors.  As  a 


An  Unexpected  Command          53 

result  his  people  had  become  the  most  skilled  and 
industrious  in  the  land,  excelling  in  the  production  of 
rice,  silk,  lacquer  rugs,  matting,  bronzes,  pottery, 
steel,  and  implements  of  husbandry  and  articles  for 
ornamentation. 

Therefore  Maido  was  one  of  the  most  powerful  as 
he  was  resourceful  of  the  shogun's  daimyos  and  had 
wisely  looked  askance  at  the  petty  quarrels  and  fierce 
rebellions  that  were  constantly  devastating  other 
parts  of  the  country  and  robbing  them  of  their  treas- 
ure. Still  he  did  not  neglect  to  cultivate  a  true 
martial  spirit,  nor  to  maintain  an  army  in  keeping 
with  the  country's  dignity;  which,  owing  to  the 
mountainous  approaches  at  the  east  and  south,  and 
to  the  broad  open  sea  and  rocky  shores  of  the  west 
and  north,  was  as  against  an  invading  foe  easily 
defended.  These  natural  barriers  having  been  seized 
upon  early  after  the  beginning  of  the  shogunate  and 
from  time  to  time  fortified,  Maido  had  but  to  keep 
them  in  repair  and  refrain  from  interfering  with 
outside  affairs  in  order  to  induce  the  powerful  armies 
of  the  north  and  south,  while  marching  against  each 
other,  to  pass  him  by  unmolested.  In  consequence 
his  vassals  —  secure  in  their  peace,  in  plenty,  sure  of 
kind  and  liberal  treatment,  their  religion  inviolate 
and  their  customs  well  established  —  were  quite 
content  to  labour  faithfully  for  the  promotion  of 
their  daimyo's  comfort  and  power.  He  was  at  the 
same  time  the  most  respected  and  envied  personage 
at  court,  and  even  the  shogun  himself  found  it 
both  agreeable  and  advantageous  to  cultivate  his 
friendship. 

This  pleasing  situation,  however,  was  not  long  to 
continue,  for  the  outgrowth  of  Maido 's  wisdom,  and 


54  Shibusawa 

his  abundance  at  home,  made  him  the  more  coveted 
at  Tokyo;  and  now  that  hostilities  were  assuming 
proportion  in  the  south,  the  necessity  for  new  expe- 
dients was  fast  crowding  upon  the  northern  party. 
To  lyeyoshi,  the  over-fed,  easy-going  shogun,  these 
matters  were  rather  irksome  and  in  consequence 
were  being  more  and  more  turned  over  to  the  newly 
appointed  prime  minister,  the  young  and  rest- 
less Ikamon.  The  shogun  was  satisfied;  Ikamon, 
ambitious. 

The  latter  had  risen  from  the  lower  ranks  by  dint 
of  his  own  exertions,  and  his  career  was  as  unbounded 
as  it  was  unbridled.  In  presence  he  was  pinched 
and  bony,  stoop  shouldered,  of  peaked  face,  had  eagle 
eyes,  rather  sparse,  stiff  black  hair,  and  for  strength 
of  mind  displayed  a  wonderful  mixture  of  cunning 
and  craft.  He  had  already  formed  a  personal  alliance 
with  Maido  (which  materially  strengthened  him  at 
court  and  directly  helped  him  into  his  present  posi- 
tion) by  taking  in  marriage  Yasuko,  the  daimyo's 
second  daughter ;  and  now  ostensibly  as  a  state  meas- 
ure, but  in  reality  to  further  Ikamon 's  personal 
schemes,  Shibusawa  was  urgently  brought  forward 
as  a  likely  match  for  Takara,  a  rising  member  of  the 
royalty,  and  a  daughter  of  the  mikado  himself. 

When  the  proposal  was  first  made,  Maido  paid  but 
little  heed  to  it,  passing  it  by  as  one  of  his  son-in-law's 
many  visionary  schemes;  in  the  majority  of  which 
he  had  not  much  confidence  and  as  yet  less  concern. 
He  had  intended  to  govern  himself  in  this  matter, 
when  the  proper  time  came,  as  he  had  in  all  others, 
as  best  conserved  his  own  interests  and  the  happiness 
of  his  son.  That  any  one  dared  to  interfere  with 
what  he  considered  his  and  his  family's  private  affair 


An  Unexpected  Command          55 

had  not  seriously  dawned  upon  his  mind,  and  was 
this  time  looked  upon  as  a  piece  of  ill-advised 
impertinence. 

In  time,  however,  the  over-confident  daimyo  dis- 
covered his  mistake,  for  Ikamon  persisted  and  before 
long  had  enlisted  the  support  of  a  higher  influence, 
one  that  presently  assumed  the  shape  of  an  urgent 
request,  if  not  command.  Such  'an  alliance,  once 
proposed,  was  not  in  times  of  stress  to  be  overlooked 
even  by  the  shogun,  and  Maido  soon  found  himself 
entangled  with  a  problem  that  was  to  bring  his  son 
face  to  face  with  the  queenly  and  much  coveted 
Takara. 

Though  only  the  daughter  by  a  favourite  concubine, 
this  beautiful  princess  was  much  loved  by  Komei, 
the  mikado,  and  it  was  conceded  that  whoever  gained 
her  hand  would  not  only  gain  his  royal  highness' 
favour,  but  strengthen  his  position  at  the  Kyoto 
court.  She  was  tall  and  slender,  not  yet  twenty 
years  of  age,  had  bright,  tender  eyes,  a  soft,  clear  skin, 
and  silken  hair  as  dark  as  the  raven.  Her  manner 
was  that  of  grace  and  distinction,  her  speech  calm 
and  deliberate,  while  at  court  and  among  her  friends 
she  was  regarded  with  almost  reverence.  Daikomitsu, 
a  rising  young  prince  and  staunch  supporter  of  the 
southern  party,  had  already  sought  her  hand  in  mar- 
riage, and  withal,  aside  from  any  political  considera- 
tions, she  might  have  been  thought  eminently  fitted 
to  become  the  wife  even  of  a  Maido 's  successor. 

It  was  with  different  considerations,  though,  that 
Ikamon  urged  the  suit.  He  knew  of  no  demand 
except  that  of  policy,  and  now  that  he  was  in  a  posi- 
tion effectively  to  reach  both  sides  he  hastened  the 
business  as  much  as  he  consistently  could.  The 


56  Shibusawa 

mikado  was,  notwithstanding  the  advice  of  his  coun- 
sellors, still  in  favour  of  peace,  and  thus  he  lent  a 
ready  ear  to  any  proposal  that  might  be  reasonably 
expected  to  calm  the  disturbance  and  ward  off  a  final 
conflict.  His  daughter,  having  grown  to  womanhood 
within  the  palace  and  its  traditional  and  superstitious 
atmosphere,  knew  nothing  of  the  profane  world  and 
was  possessed  of  a  loyalty  that  carried  her  far  over 
into  the  sweep  of  ancestral  worship.  She  believed 
that  her  only  province  was  to  serve,  and  that  of  right 
she  should  be  handed  from  father  to  husband,  from 
the  one  family  to  the  other.  Her  birth  seemed  but 
a  necessity,  her  life  a  sacrifice,  and  her  death  only 
a  natural  consequence  —  why  should  she  look  or 
think  or  hope  beyond?  She  offered  no  protest  when 
told  of  her  lot  —  that  she  must  yield  her  all  unto  a 
stranger  —  but  bowed  in  grateful  submission  at  the 
command  of  an  unquestioned  fate.  She  promised 
her  father,  and  he  was  pleased,  and  hastened  to  inform 
the  shogun. 

Maido  as  yet  had  said  nothing  to  Shibusawa  about 
his  prospective  marriage,  though  he  himself  had  been 
fully  convinced  that  there  was  no  possible  way  for 
him  to  avoid  its  final  consummation  without  as  a  last 
resort  breaking  faith  with  the  shogun:  a  thing  en- 
tirely beyond  the  pale  of  his  moral  rectitude.  He 
had  from  time  to  time  avoided  the  subject,  trusting 
that  some  failure  at  Kyoto  might  save  him  the  neces- 
sity, but  now  that  the  mikado  had  favourably  re- 
sponded and  the  shogun  positively  commanded,  all 
hope  was  dissipated. 

He  therefore  called  his  son  to  him  and  led  him  into 
the  great  chamber,  where  he  bade  him  be  seated  at 
his  side.  It  was  in  the  evening,  and  Maido  had  just 


An  Unexpected  Command  57 

returned  flushed  and  heated  from  an  animated  council, 
and  he  chose  the  open  side  of  the  room,  where  they 
sat  facing  each  other  and  alone.  A  warm  breeze 
floated  in  from  the  garden,  and  the  air  seemed  to 
Shibusawa  almost  as  sweet  with  cherry  blossom  as 
it  had  the  day  before  while  sitting  with  Kinsan  at  the 
hidden  cave.  He  realised  that  some  grave  question 
disturbed  his  parent,  but  little  thought  that  he  him- 
self was  the  victim  of  a  prearranged  plan  that  should 
augur  so  uncertain  a  future.  He  would  have  spoken, 
but  his  father  beckoned  him  be  silent;  then  himself 
spoke  distinctly,  telling  him  of  what  he  was  expected 
to  do,  and  waited  for  an  answer. 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  meaning,  yet  Shibu- 
sawa sat  in  silence;  he  was  for  the  moment  dazed 
and  unable  to  make  any  answer.  After  the  first 
flush  he  resolved  upon  throwing  himself  at  his  father's 
feet  and  explaining  all;  to  ask  forgiveness  for  what 
he  had  done,  and  beg  indulgence  for  what  his  life 
seemed  pledged  to  do,  but  prudence  bade  him  not. 
He  knew  only  too  well  that  such  a  thing  was  impos- 
sible. Maido's  anxiety  doubled  with  each  succeeding 
moment,  until  finally  surprise,  then  fear,  moved  him 
and  his  voice  trembled  as  he  said: 

"Shibusawa,  my  son,  have  you  no  ears?" 

"I  hear  you,  father,  and  I  assure  you  it  is  my 
weakness  and  not  the  answer  that  makes  me  slow. 
I  would  frame  you  a  better  speech  than  the  one  I 
have  in  mind." 

"Hold,  my  boy!  I  know  your  answer.  And, 
besides,  I  would  rather  you  save  your  words  for  a 
higher  purpose.  This  old  self  of  mine  is  satisfied 
that  you  do  the  thing.  That  is  it.  Oshaka!  Oshaka! 
good  god  of  self,  forbid  that  I  hear,  let  me  only  feel 


58  Shibusawa 

a  father's  blessing  and  a  son's  forgiveness.  Come,  my 
good  son,  your  liberal  indulgence  of  me  and  your  ready 
acceptance  of  her  has  removed  from  me  the  greatest 
concern  of  my  life.  A  long  one,  and  a  happy  one  — 
hah!  h-a-h!  h  — a  — h!" 

Maido's  eyes  flashed  dry  and  hot  as  he  sat  there 
swinging  his  powerful  frame  back  and  forth  to  the 
rhythm  of  his  parched  words.  Shibusawa  knelt 
quickly  at  his  father's  side  and  steadied  and  soothed 
him.  The  long  white  locks  parted  and  fell  from  his 
splendid  brow,  and  in  an  instant  the  son's  whole 
soul  went  out  to  the  one  who  had  given  him  being 
and  had  showered  upon  him  a  constant  devotion. 

The  lord  daimyo  went  to  sleep  presently,  and 
Shibusawa  sat  for  a  long  time,  debating  the  conse- 
quences of  this  new  and  unexpected  situation.  It 
was  only  yesterday  that  he  had  pledged  himself  to 
the  one  he  loved,  and  now  he  was  bound  by  every 
tradition  and  law  to  break  that  engagement  and 
perform  a  duty.  Had  this  sudden  mandate  come 
only  a  day  sooner  his  honour,  at  least,  might  have 
been  saved;  but  to  sacrifice  that  was  more  than  he 
could  do.  Filial  affection  —  but  was  there  not  a 
higher  purpose,  and  if  so  why  not  devote  his  life  to 
its  fulfilment?  He  pondered,  then  said  to  himself: 

"Although  I  uphold  the  traditions  of  our  religion, 
maintain  the  honour  of  my  family,  and  obey  the 
command  of  the  shogun,  I  can  and  will  be  true  to 
Kinsan." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE    MARRIAGE    CEREMONY 

WHEN  Shibusawa  arose  the  next  morning,  he 
set  about  with  a  heavy  heart  to  plan  some 
course  of  action.  He  had  not  slept  much  during  the 
night,  and  with  a  clouded  atmosphere  the  morning 
was  dull,  so  he  remained  in  the  garden  but  a  short 
time,  returning  to  his  now  cold  and  dreary  chamber. 

At  first  he  planned  to  hurry  to  Kinsan  and  tell  her 
the  truth  and  beg  her  forgiveness;  then  he  realised 
the  impossibility  of  doing  so ;  the  gates  were  closed  to 
him,  and  his  strategy  would  not  avail  him  in  the  day- 
time. He  rightly  divined  his  father's  helplessness, 
and  knew  that  an  appeal  to  the  court  would  fall  upon 
deaf  ears.  The  law  was  inexorable,  and  those  in 
authority  would  use  it,  as  they  were  using  him,  to 
further  their  own  schemes.  To  fly  was  worse  than 
hopeless,  and  to  disclose  the  identity  of  his  love  would 
surely  bring  death  if  not  torture  to  her.  Such  were 
some  of  the  conditions  confronting  Shibusawa,  and 
with  which  he  must  struggle. 

Ikamon  was  fully  advised  of  the  rapidly  rising 
influence  of  the  literary,  or  southern  party,  at  the 
mikado's,  or  royal  court,  and  he  hastened  that  no 
time  be  lost  in  using  this  last  measure  to  check  its 
growth.  The  banns  were  accordingly  that  day 
published  at  Tokyo,  and  the  marriage  proclaimed  to 
take  place  at  the  earliest  possible  day  in  May,  the 
month  following;  while  messengers  were  despatched 

59 


60  Shibusawa 

to  Kyoto  with  the  intelligence,  so  that  Takara  might 
make  ready  and  repair  to  her  intended  father-in-law's 
seat  at  the  shogun's  capital  city. 

During  the  interval  of  waiting  the  busy  prime 
minister  more  than  ever  bestirred  himself  with  making 
preparations  for  the  ceremony.  Maido  was  pushed 
to  one  side  and  his  natural  prerogatives  usurped  by 
his  son-in-law,  Ikamon,  who,  without  much  regard 
to  rank,  invited  everybody  whom  he  thought  could 
in  any  way  further  his  own  political  chances  and 
incidentally  those  of  his  party.  Thus  Tetsutaisho 
was  included  among  the  selected  guests,  for  in  him 
more  than  any  other  Ikamon  saw  a  future  powerful 
weapon. 

This  young  officer  was  rapidly  advancing  in  favour, 
and  Ikamon  reasoned  that  his  chances  of  being 
placed  at  the  head  of  the  shogun's  army,  already 
good,  would  be  effectually  strengthened  by  an  alliance 
with  the  powerful  house  of  Maido.  There  was  the 
good  and  handsome  Nehachibana,  Maido 's  daughter 
and  Shibusawa's  favourite  —  why  not  offer  her  to  Tet- 
sutaisho? With  Tetsutaisho,  his  ready  confidant,  se- 
curely in  command  of  the  northern  army,  his  alliance 
with  the  royal  court  established  through  Shibusawa's 
marriage,  he  had  designed  a  still  more  sweeping 
stroke,  that  of  tricking  the  mikadate  into  a  tacit 
coalition  of  the  two  armies,  the  north  and  the  south, 
with  Tetsutaisho  as  the  recognised  head  of  both. 
Ikamon  believed  that  in  such  a  situation  he  could 
effectually  put  down  any  local  disaffection,  gradually 
dissipate  the  mikadate,  and  eventually  establish  the 
shogunate  as  the  sole,  supreme  authority  in  the  land. 

His  plan  was  a  vital  one,  and  there  seemed  to  be  no 
real  obstacle  in  the  way  of  its  final  consummation. 


The  Marriage   Ceremony  61 

Tetsutaisho  had  already  looked  upon  Nehachibana 
with  a  sordid  eye;  she  was  young  and  vivacious  — 
that  was  enough  for  him.  Shibusawa  was  now 
perceptibly  occupied  with  his  own  troubles,  and 
should  readily  fall  a  victim  to  the  magic  of  a  royal 
court.  Maido  was  rapidly  approaching  a  certain 
state  of  senility  —  possibly  apparent  to  none  but 
his  covetous  son-in-law  —  and  could  no  longer  offer 
any  serious  resistance.  There  was  no  further  chance 
for  a  misalliance  in  the  family,  no  moral  gulf  between 
the  driver  and  the  goal,  so  Ikamon  devised  and  the 
wedding  day  found  him  easily  prepared. 

"When  that  day  had  arrived  and  the  guests  were  as- 
sembled, a  dust-bedraggled  train  of  carriers  and  attend- 
ants came  filing  up  the  roadway  to  the  front  of  Maido 's 
castle,  where  they  halted  and  demanded  entrance  in 
the  name  of  Takara,  daughter  of  Komei,  the  divine 
mikado.  Upon  the  conclusion  of  this  short  ceremony 
the  party  was  passed  through  the  gate  to  the  house 
door,  where  the  bride  was  delivered  into  the  care  of 
Ikamon  and  Yasuko,  his  wife,  who  bade  her  welcome 
after  the  fashion  of  another  polite  ceremony.  Takara 
wore  a  flowing  kimono  of  soft  white  material,  and 
now  that  she  had  entered  the  house  of  her  future 
husband  she  forthwith  retired  and  changed  her  dress 
for  one  provided  by  the  bridegroom.  Having  thus 
completed  her  toilet  she  was  escorted  to  the  cham- 
ber of  state  by  Yasuko,  while  Ikamon  attended 
Shibusawa. 

Takara  meekly  entered,  and  as  she  did  so  the 
sound  of  many  voices  and  much  merry-making  greeted 
her;  the  guests  were  assembled  in  a  room  adjoining, 
waiting  for  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony  and  the 
beginning  of  the  feast,  Shibusawa  then  came  for- 


62  Shibusawa 

ward,  betraying  only  a  slight  colour,  and  Takara 
humbly  bowed  recognition;  he  bowed  and  motioned 
her  to  a  mat  at  his  side.  They  had  met,  and  for  the 
first  time  looked  into  the  mirror  of  each  other's  life. 
The  two-lipped  cup  was  offered  by  Haraku,  the 
bride's  maid-servant,  and  Takara  moistened  her  lips 
therefrom,  then  passed  it  to  the  bridegroom,  who  in 
turn  drank  a  draught,  and  passed  it  back  to  her. 
Thrice  three  times  they  did  this,  and  the  ceremony 
was  complete. 

Without  any  further  ado  the  bride  again  retired 
and  changed  her  light  kimono  for  a  coloured  one  of 
her  own  providing.  In  her  absence  the  sliding  par- 
titions had  been  removed,  and  when  she  returned  she 
found  herself  in  the  midst  of  the  merry  guests,  who 
crowded  about  to  offer  their  congratulations. 

Shibusawa  appeared  to  be  deeply  impressed  with 
the  formal  part  of  the  ceremony,  but  after  that  was 
concluded  he  showed  an  indifferent  feeling,  and  had 
it  not  been  for  the  state  character  of  the  doing,  there 
might  have  seemed  to  be  even  less  cordiality.  Ika- 
mon,  of  course,  outdid  himself,  particularly  in  an 
effort  to  impress  the  bride  with  his  own  importance, 
and  his  squeaking  voice  and  glancing  eyes  were  every- 
where in  evidence.  Tetsutaisho  was  also  pleased 
and,  at  first  sight  of  the  bride,  became  so  infatuated 
that  she  did  not  thereafter  lack  attention:  an  unad- 
vised observer  might  even  have  taken  him  to  be  the 
bridegroom. 

This  gallant  young  officer  naturally  was  charmed 
with  Nehachibana  upon  his  arrival  and  introduction 
early  in  the  evening,  and  certainly  would  have  con- 
tinued his  attentions  had  she  been  the  last  to  come 
upon  the  scene.  As  it  was,  and  as  he  was  unable 


The  two-lipped  cup  was  offered     ....     Takara  moistened  her  lips 
therefrom,  then  passed  it  to  the  bridegroom. 


The  Marriage  Ceremony  63 

to  divide  his  gallantry  between  two,  Takara  received 
his  favours  after  their  first  meeting,  which,  strange 
to  say,  seemed  mutually  agreeable.  On  the  other 
hand,  Nehachibana  had  been  not  unfavourably  im- 
pressed with  Tetsutaisho,  and  were  it  not  that  Takara 
was  now  her  sister-in-law  she  might  have  been  a  little 
jealous.  Shibusawa,  however,  consoled  her  with 
more  than  his  usual  ardour,  and  he  may  not  have 
neglected  to  express  in  some  measure  his  opinion  of 
the  would-be  seducer.  At  all  events,  he  was  under 
the  circumstances  perfectly  willing  that  the  latter 
should  make  haste  with  his  wife  rather  than  with  his 
sister.  Nor  did  he  disclose  the  cause  of  his  indiffer- 
ence about  the  one  and  his  coldness  toward  the  other, 
because  he  felt  that  he  had  best  let  events  take  their 
own  course,  especially  that  the  position  of  both 
would  save  either  from  bringing  disgrace  into  his 
family. 

"I  do  not  mind  saying,"  said  he  to  his  sister,  as 
they  sat  quietly  together,  "that  I  am  not  at  all 
pleased  with  Tetsutaisho 's  appearance.  More  I  do 
not  care  to  venture." 

"But  he  is  so  large  and  so  heroic,"  answered 
Nehachibana.  "Do  not  such  men  fight  fiercely? 
And  have  they  not  warm  hearts  ?  And  are  they  not 
chivalrous?  But  he  does  not  seem  to  care  for  me. 
Only  Takara  has  saved  him  from  being  bored." 

"Such  men  are  neither  bored  nor  saved.  They  are 
incapable  of  the  one  and  beyond  hope  of  the  other," 
replied  Shibusawa,  mindful  of  his  own  experience. 

"I  trust  so,"  mused  she,  thoughtfully. 

"And  I  am — well,  except  for  you,  indifferent  as 
to  the  whole  affair,"  said  he,  as  he  arose  and  went 
toward  Takara. 


64  Shibusawa 

Shibusawa  soon  returned  to  his  sister,  and  bowing 
himself  away  from  her  retired  from  the  company, 
going  with  the  full  consciousness  of  having  acquitted 
himself  as  best  he  could  under  the  circumstances. 
Perhaps,  as  he  lingered  on  the  veranda  above,  he  did 
not  think  of  Kinsan,  more  likely  he  did  not  notice 
particularly  the  group  of  sight-seers  in  the  road  at  the 
front  of  the  house,  but  if  he  had,  he  might  have  seen 
her  there,  and  have  observed  that  her  eyes  were  filled 
with  tears;  that  she  trembled  a  little  and  that  sus- 
picion was  trying  hard  to  enter  her  heart.  He  did 
not  distinguish  her,  however,  but  turned  and  went 
into  his  own  chamber  and  was  seen  no  more  that 
night. 

Kinsan,  though,  had  recognised  him,  and  when  he 
had  gone  she  too  turned  and  stole  away  toward  her 
house  as  silently  as  she  had  come,  but  with  a  heavy 
heart  and  uncertain  step. 

From  the  time  Kinsan  had  first  heard  of  the  in- 
tended wedding,  something  told  her  that  she  must 
go  there.  True,  she  had  no  reason  for  believing  that 
the  Shibusawa  to  whom  she  had  given  her  love  was 
a  prince,  or  that  he  could  possibly  be  the  suitor  of 
Takara,  the  mikado's  daughter;  yet  a  power  not 
explained  moved  her  to  go,  and  opportunity  enabled 
her  to  see  only  too  much.  She  had  seen  him  there, 
and  in  that  she  surmised  an  insurmountable  gulf 
between  them,  and  felt  that  he  in  such  a  station, 
however  true,  must  be  lost  to  her.  She  went  home 
and  with  an  aching  heart  prayed  for  future  light  and 
strength. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    WEDDING    FEAST 

ON  the  third  day  after  the  wedding,  all  prepara- 
tions having  been  made,  the  newly  wedded 
couple  started  upon  their  bridal  tour  to  the  home  of 
the  bride's  parents.  This  was  no  small  undertaking, 
and  to  any  other  than  a  bride  it  would  have  seemed 
decidedly  unpleasant.  The  only  means  of  transit 
was  by  chair,  and,  as  she  had  just  been  borne  over 
the  same  route  and  had  in  prospect  a  speedy  return, 
Takara  might  well  have  complained  of  the  three 
long  journeys,  if  not  of  custom. 

Upon  coming  to  the  wedding  ceremony  the  bride 
had  brought  with  her  a  large  number  of  useful  and 
costly  presents,  and,  as  might  be  expected,  the  family 
of  the  bridegroom  had  been  exceedingly  liberal  in 
bestowing  a  return  compliment.  Maido  had  spared 
neither  pains  nor  expense  to  laden  Shibusawa's  train 
with  tokens  of  his  appreciation,  and  as  squad  after 
squad  of  carriers  passed  out  at  the  front  gate  the 
gathering  onlookers  cheered  with  something  like 
frenzy.  It  was,  therefore,  late  in  the  morning  before 
the  last  of  the  baggage  had  passed  and  the  way  was 
made  clear  for  Shibusawa's  chair,  and  as  he  came 
forward  there  arose  a  mighty  shout  of  "  Long  live  the 
prince."  Early  in  the  day  the  kaika  (household 
treasurer),  acting  under  Ikamon's  instructions,  had 
begun  distributing  coins  among  the  hangers-on,  and 
now  that  the  noble  suite  was  passing  a  perfect  shower 

65 


66  Shibusawa 

of  "cash"  was  thrown  upon  them.  No  other  means 
could  so  readily  call  forth  their  hearty  applause,  and 
Ikamon  was  gratified  and  Maido  perhaps  pleased,  if 
Shibusawa  was  entirely  unconcerned. 

As  Shibusawa's  chair  swung  into  the  roadway  he 
drew  back  the  curtain  and  looked  out  at  the  excited 
throng.  There  was  one  who  stood,  amid  all  this 
noise,  with  a  strained,  eager  expression.  It  was 
Kinsan;  and  Shibusawa,  looking  straight  into  her 
face,  without  offering  to  recognise  her,  closed  the 
curtain  and  continued  his  way.  Probably  she  knew 
as  well  as  he  that  the  least  sign  of  recognition  on  his 
part  might,  if  detected,  bring  horrible  punishment, 
or  even  death  to  her.  Possibly  she  believed  him 
cruel.  Whatever  her  thoughts  may  have  been,  she 
felt  crushed  and  forlorn.  She  knew  now  that  it  was 
only  too  true ;  that  her  heart  was  broken  and  her  life 
for  ever  shadowed. 

Kinsan  had  gone  there  again  to  determine  if  pos- 
sible the  truth  or  falsity  of  her  former  conviction. 
Without  any  consciousness  she  had  done  her  hair 
in  the  prettiest  fashion  and  dressed  in  her  very  best 
kimono,  and  so  anxious  was  she  that  before  the  sun 
had  barely  risen  she  began  planning  to  go.  The  fresh 
air  and  the  excitement  brought  the  colour  to  her 
cheeks,  and  when  Tetsutaisho  chanced  to  pass  her, 
on  his  way  to  wish  Takara  a  safe  journey  and  a  speedy 
return,  he  stopped  and  spoke  to  her  and  chided  her 
for  being  so  far  from  home.  She  made  no  answer, 
but  his  kindly  attention  lingered  on  her  mind,  and 
possibly  she  may  have  contrasted  this  with  Shibu- 
sawa's greeting. 

However,  Kinsan  was  not  so  ready  to  heed  the  one 
or  condemn  the  other,  and  with  a  determination 


The  Wedding   Feast  67 

stronger  than  ever  she  proceeded  on  her  way  home. 
She  had  not  gone  far,  though,  before  she  was  over- 
taken by  Tetsutaisho,  who  hastened  to  her  and  said: 

"Which  way  are  you  going  now,  my  pretty  young 
lady?" 

Kinsan  started  at  the  sound  of  his  voice,  and  when 
she  turned  about  and  saw  who  it  was,  she  blushed 
deeply,  then  grew  pale.  She  made  no  immediate 
answer,  but  stood  debating  in  her  own  mind  what 
she  had  best  do;  and  as  she  made  no  offer  to  move 
he  became  emboldened,  and,  coming  closer,  began 
to  talk  in  a  confidential  manner: 

"Come,  my  sweet  little  girl,  come  with  me  and  sit 
in  the  shade  over  there,  where  it  is  quiet  and  out  of 
reach  of  the  curious." 

"I  thank  you,  honourable  sir,  I  am  on  the  way 
to  my  house  and  I  wish  not  to  delay,  for  that  would 
be  improper.  Please,  sir,  excuse  me  —  my  mother 
has  said  nothing  about  this  proposal." 

"But,"  said  he,  "I  will  pay  the  mother.  I  will 
double  and  treble  the  price.  Come  with  me  now. 
My  bungalow  is  large  and  you  shall  share  the  privi- 
leged mat.  I  am  rich  and  my  station  is  high.  I  will 
free  your  father  and  mother  from  all  their  debts  and 
make  them  comfortable  and  happy.  Come,  now ;  what 
more  can  be  done?  Is  not  all  this  worth  the  while?" 

Kinsan  listened  to  all  he  said.  She  measured  well 
his  proposals  and  thought  of  the  ease  and  comfort  it 
would  bring  to  her  parents. 

She  also  remembered  that  look  of  Shibusawa's 
and  how  her  heart  had  failed  her ;  and  then  her  love 
for  him  began  to  reassert  itself,  and  she  turned  upon 
her  enticer  and  scorned  him,  and  without  saying  an- 
other word  walked  rapidly  away. 


68  Shibusawa 

After  Shibusawa  had  so  coldly  turned  from  Kinsan, 
while  passing  through  the  gate  and  into  the  roadway, 
he  sank  back  in  his  chair,  stunned  and  fearful.  The 
shock  had  overcome  him,  and  he  did  not  recover 
until  he  had  gone  far  beyond  her  reach.  It  was  only 
a  glance,  yet  he  now  appreciated  the  force  with  which 
that  must  have  stricken  Kinsan.  While,  as  he  well 
knew,  there  could  have  been  no  escaping  the  conse- 
quences of  an  overt  act,  nevertheless,  had  he  done  no 
more  he  might  in  some  way  have  sought  Kinsan  and 
explained  to  her  the  true  circumstances  of  his  situa- 
tion. And  now  that  he  had  not  done  so,  and  fully 
realised  the  sad  mistake,  it  was  only  with  much  self- 
control  that  he  held  himself  from  attempting  to 
return  to  her. 

Nothing  further  marked  his  progress,  and  the  visit 
at  Kyoto  was  a  great  success  in  spite  of  Shibusawa's 
preoccupied  state  of  mind.  His  reserve  gave  him  an 
air  of  dignity  and  charm  of  manner  that  surprised 
and  pleased  the  too  much  coddled  mikado,  who 
could  not  help  admiring  the  young  man's  strong, 
athletic  build  and  evenly  balanced  temperament. 
Here  at  last  was  one  who  frowned  upon  frivolity  and 
seemed  to  exemplify  real  manhood;  who  aimed  at 
something  above  sordid  pleasure. 

Takara,  too,  was  proud  of  her  husband,  and  had 
already  begun  to  look  up  to  him  and  to  feel  the  force 
of  his  character.  Yet  something  she  had  hoped  and 
longed  for  was  missing.  All  her  maiden  life  she  had 
dreamed  of  this  one  sweet  satisfying  thing,  and  it  was 
still  an  unrealised  thought. 

They  did  not  remain  at  Kyoto  longer  than  eti- 
quette required,  though  in  that  time  Shibusawa  saw 
something  of  the  life  and  manners  at  the  royal  abode. 


The  Wedding   Feast  69 

He  came  in  contact  with  not  only  the  immediate 
members  of  the  family  but  some  of  the  mikado's 
most  intimate  advisers  and  a  multitude  of  his  well- 
paid  admirers,  and  therefrom  formed  some  notion  of 
the  prodigality  if  not  unwisdom  of  such  a  duplicity 
of  government.  Returning  they  went  by  way  of 
Kanazawa,  where  Takara  was  very  much  impressed 
with  the  magnificence  of  her  father-in-law's  estates, 
the  prospective  seat  of  her  husband's  future  empire. 

"Oh,  what  a  beautiful  place,  and  such  a  grand 
scene!"  said  she,  with  rapture,  as  they  approached 
the  family  mansion  at  the  summit  of  the  hill.  "And 
the  lovely  breeze,  and  the  stately  pines,  and  all  the 
beautiful  things  which  Kami  has  given  us  —  here 
you  will  be  my  lover,  and  I,  oh,  how  I  shall  love  you! 
Yes,  I  will  love  you,  love  you,  oh,  so  much! " 

Shibusawa  did  not  answer,  but  for  the  first  time 
recognised  her  full  nature,  and  presaged  the  conse- 
quence of  his  failure.  Nor  did  he  venture  to  speak 
and  in  some  measure  unfold  the  true  state  of  his 
feelings  until  the  day  before  their  final  departure  for 
Tokyo.  She  had  waited  for  him  and  longed  for  him, 
and  now  somewhat  of  despair  if  not  disgust  had  taken 
hold  of  her.  They  were  sitting  side  by  side  on  the 
matted  floor,  and  from  the  open  side  could  see  afar 
over  the  wind-tossed  deep  or  out  at  the  timbered  hills 
looming  in  the  background. 

"Takara,"  said  he,  after  a  long  silence,  "you  are  a 
patient,  noble  woman.  You  deserve  a  better  appre- 
ciation than  I  can  give  you.  Our  connection  is  the 
result  of  a  false  tradition,  a  perverted  truth.  Ambi- 
tion is  the  sponsor  and  necessity  the  maker  of  this 
cruel  situation,  and  in  order  that  we  may  not  suffer 
therefrom  let  us  be  wise." 


jo  Shibusawa 

With  the  first  sound  of  Shibusawa's  voice  Takara 
brightened  with  encouragement,  but  as  he  proceeded 
her  ardour  cooled ;  and  when  she  came  to  measure  him 
in  the  light  of  a  starved  sensibility  there  dawned  upon 
her  a  full  appreciation  of  their  true  relation,  though 
she  did  not  hasten  to  answer  nor  did  she  shrink  in  the 
least  from  him.  She  only  sat  toying  with  a  loose 
obi  (sash) ;  finally  it  occurred  to  her  to  speak,  and 
she  said  with  a  sigh : 

"Shibusawa,  you  just  now  made  me  happy,  when 
for  the  first  time  you  spoke  my  name.  Though  only 
a  short  happiness,  it  momentarily  filled  me  with  the 
pride  that  comes  not  of  unchaste  wedlock.  It  would 
have  satisfied  me  to  feel  that  you  knew  this  if  nothing 
more.  It  is  a  little  thing,  yet  a  priceless  jewel  in  the 
crown  of  perfect  womanhood.  This  privilege  is 
denied  me  and  a  more  convenient  one  granted. 
Sorrow  is  my  reward;  wisdom  could  have  served  me 
no  worse." 

Nothing  further  was  said  to  mar  the  pleasure  of 
their  visit  at  Kanazawa  or  the  remainder  of  the 
journey,  and  when  they  had  safely  arrived  at  Tokyo 
they  found  themselves  in  a  mood  to  enjoy  a  brief 
interval  of  rest  before  the  giving  of  the  grand  final 
entertainment.  This  sumptuous  affair  was  sup- 
posed to  be  given  under  the  immediate  auspices  of 
the  contracting  parties  themselves,  but  in  this  case 
it  had  been  made  the  special  business  of  the  redoubt- 
able Ikamon.  And  so  well  did  he  manage  that 
Mai  do  indulged  a  lavish  generosity,  and  even  the 
shogun  expressed  a  sincere  appreciation.  Invita- 
tions had  been  issued  to  all  of  the  shogun 's  court  and 
the  royal  court,  and  to  such  of  the  nobility  as  were 
in  sympathy  or  could  in  any  manner  be  accounted 


The  Wedding   Feast  71 

influential  or  desirable.  An  effort  was  made  to  bring 
together  all  the  dignitaries  and  supporters  of  state 
as  well  as  the  beauty  and  fashion  of  the  land;  to 
inaugurate  a  better  understanding  between  the  two 
parties  and  bring  as  far  as  possible  the  malcontented 
literati  under  the  influence  of  the  shogun;  and,  of 
course,  incidentally,  to  advance  Ikarnon  and  his 
friends  wherever  and  whenever  convenient. 

The  night  of  July  yth  had  been  set  for  the  festivi- 
ties, and  when  that  evening  came  the  grounds  were 
resplendent  with  lighted  lanterns  and  the  banquet 
halls  were  festooned  with  vine  and  blossom.  The 
beautiful  foliage,  the  brilliant  lights,  the  fragrant 
flowers,  the  lacquered  walls,  the  spotless  floors,  the 
embroidered  screens,  the  simple  ornaments,  all  com- 
bined to  make  a  scene  of  beauty  and  inspire  a  hearty 
good  will. 

The  feast  had  employed  the  highest  art  and  the 
ransacking  of  every  market  for  rare  foods  and  choice 
viands.  The  delicate  cooking  and  exquisite  flavour- 
ing proclaimed  the  finest  culinary  art,  while  the  mild 
tea  and  rich  liquor  evinced  an  exactness  of  curing 
and  perfection  of  brewing  that  might  well  rank 
Maido's  workers  and  artisans  in  the  highest  class  of 
perfection.  The  dinner  in  its  almost  endless  round 
of  courses  represented  the  very  acme  of  human  en- 
deavour, tastes,  and  desires  covering  an  unbroken 
period  of  over  a  thousand  years  of  polite  and  civil 
life,  and  might  well  be  the  joy  of  a  people  who  in  the 
nicety  of  its  conception  and  the  beauty  of  its  creation 
stands  for  all  time  as  a  model  to  the  world. 

A  thousand  dancing  girls,  with  embroidered  gowns, 
reeled  hither  and  thither  over  the  noiseless  floor, 
tripping  time  to  strangely  harmonious  and  sweet- 


72  Shibusawa 

sounding  instruments,  while  the  guests  mingled  and 
the  feast  progressed.  The  hour  was  neither  early  nor 
late.  The  night  was  warm.  Not  a  leaf  stirred.  No 
sound  rose  from  without.  Then  suddenly  there  came 
the  cannon's  roar,  a  blinding  flash.  The  startled 
throng  sprang  up  and  stared  blankly. 

"It  is  Hoti,  god  of  good  will,  brandishing  his 
heavenly  sword  and  beating  the  mighty  drum, 
Sekegakara,"  they  cried  in  one  accord,  as  they  recov- 
ered, and  ran  from  one  to  another,  talking  and  laugh- 
ing the  event  away.  "How  silly  to  take  fright! 
Let  us  be  merry!  Now  and  for  ever!"  rang  out, 
sounding  anew  the  dash  of  pomp,  the  march  of  joy. 

Then  again  and  again  the  threatening  voice  broke 
upon  the  still  air,  telling  them  that  a  new  agency, 
the  force  of  a  friendly  foe,  was  at  their  door,  bidding 
them  hearken.  With  each  discharge  their  fears  grew, 
until  bitterness  and  hate  burst  forth  in  determinate 
unison : 

"Foreign  devil!" 

It  was  all  they  could  say;  it  was  enough.  Yet  in 
all  that  excitement  there  were  two  who  more  than 
others  controlled  their  emotions,  and  set  about  calmly 
to  dissuade  hasty  and  ill-advised  action.  From  the 
firing  of  Commodore  Perry's  first  shot  Ikamon  divined 
its  certain  meaning;  and  before  the  old  Susqttehanna 
had  ceased  sounding  her  notes  of  warning  he  had 
begun  to  evolve  a  plan  for  his  own  aggrandisement. 
Therefore,  while  others  fell  upon  one  another  in  loud 
appeals  to  the  gods,  he  moved  quietly  among  them, 
foretelling  the  true  character  of  the  strange  visita- 
tion. It  was  quite  different,  however,  with  Titsu- 
taisho,  for  at  the  first  sound  of  firing  he  fell  upon  his 
knees  in  the  midst  of  a  coterie  of  admirers,  and 


The    Wedding    Feast  73 

between  gesticulating  with  his  arms  and  beating  his 
head  upon  the  floor  prayed  first  to  one  god,  then 
another,  to  drive  away  the  unforeseen  and  save  them 
from  an  untimely  end.  Whether  it  be  earthquake 
or  "foreign  devil"  mattered  not  to  him  so  long  as 
their  women  be  spared  and  their  honour  maintained, 
though  when  understanding  finally  dawned  he  sud- 
denly changed  face  and  began  strutting  around  in 
a  boastful  manner,  vowing  the  enemy  all  sorts  of 
speedy  overthrowings  and  fatal  exterminations. 

Between  Ikamon's  expounding  and  Tetsutaisho's 
boasting  there  was  left  little  place  for  speculation, 
yet  there  was  one,  young  as  he  was,  who  gave  himself 
over  to  calm  reason.  Shibusawa  not  only  judged, 
but  observed  as  well.  Before  the  conclusion  of  the 
first  salute  from  the  little  squadron  in  the  harbour 
he  had  realised  that  the  spirit  of  the  entertainment 
was  broken;  and  before  the  last  began,  saw  that  the 
guests  were  departing,  some  politely  though  all  in 
haste.  The  few  who  had  the  right  were  hastening 
to  the  citadel,  while  others  sought  elsewhere  the  most 
advantageous  points  of  observation;  therefore  Shibu- 
sawa embraced  the  earliest  opportunity  to  withdraw, 
and  retired  directly  to  his  own  rooms. 

From  the  lower  side  of  his  chamber  he  could  see  out 
across  the  harbour  to  where  the  strange  vessels  were 
being  placed  at  anchor.  The  grey  hulls  of  the  little 
squadron  lay  broadside  to  the  city,  and  their  long 
rows  of  mysterious  lights  shone  brightly  against  the 
dark  background.  Rumour  had  pictured  these  castles 
of  the  deep,  though  few  in  this  sacred  land  had  known 
or  seen  them  in  reality.  The  sight  was  an  inspiring 
one,  and  when  the  final  salute  began  Shibusawa's 
spirit  rose,  and  as  volley  after  volley  rang  out  against 


74  Shibusawa 

the  still,  cool  air  of  night  his  patriotism  stirred  him 
to  grand,  uplifting  thoughts.  Here  at  last  was  a 
force  unknown  to  them ;  a  power  beyond  their  compre- 
hension; a  god  to  be  reckoned  with. 

He  did  not  stand  there  long,  but  in  that  time  fully 
resolved  what  he  himself  should  do.  It  was  a  moment 
for  serious  thought,  and  in  it  there  came  to  him  a 
world  of  possibilities.  There  was  no  need  for  him 
in  the  council  chamber;  he  had  not  yet  assumed  the 
responsibilities  of  state.  His  place  in  the  family 
was  that  of  a  makeshift,  and  his  true  voice  unheeded. 
Why  not  go  out  into  the  world  and  there  gain  that 
knowledge  which  would  satisfy  his  thirst  and  possibly 
in  some  measure  enable  him  to  preserve  the  happi- 
ness of  his  own  people?  Yes;  here  was  an  oppor- 
tunity; he  must  go,  he  would  go,  come  what  might. 

And  then  he  thought  of  Kinsan.  Would  she 
understand  him?  He  must  see  her,  and  explain. 
He  would  reassure  her,  and  gain  her  consent.  Then, 
and  not  until  then,  there  would  be  no  obstacle  in 
the  way  of  his  highest  ambition.  But  how  could 
he  reach  her  ?  and  would  she  hear  him  ? 

"Ah,"  said  he,  to  himself,  "I  have  it.  She  will 
be  at  the  cave  ;  —  she  is  there  now  ;  —  it  is  her  only 
lookout,  and  she  too  may  have  seen  this  beautiful 
sight.  The  whole  place  is  roused,  and  by  this  time 
on  the  move.  If  my  ears  serve  me  right,  even  the 
shogun  is  trying  to  make  his  way  to  the  citadel! 
I  shall  have  no  trouble  about  entering  at  the  gate, 
and  will  find  her.  I  must  go." 

His  mind  once  made  up  he  lost  no  time,  but  made 
ready  and  hurried  away.  Outside  the  castle  grounds 
he  found  everything  in  confusion;  a  few  lingered  in 
front,  others  tramped  up  and  down,  some  going,  some 


The    Wedding    Feast  75 

coming,  and  all  were  in  a  state  of  feverish  anxiety. 
At  times  almost  an  uncontrollable  impulse  to  join 
in  with  the  rest  took  hold  of  him,  yet  he  did  not  yield 
but  kept  steadfastly  to  his  purpose. 

Shibusawa  soon  arrived  at  the  cave,  but  to  his  dis- 
may found  it  unoccupied.  He  sat  down,  and  pon- 
dered. Presently  he  looked  out  over  the  vast  expanse 
of  tiled  and  thatched  roof,  and  as  his  eyes  lingered 
he  comprehended  the  full  measure  of  its  content. 
There  was  at  their  door  a  force  which  proclaimed  a 
greater,  a  grander  civilisation,  and  could  he  but 
reach  the  seat  of  its  activities  he  might  know  and 
determine  its  character.  But  was  such  a  thing  pos- 
sible? He  knew  of  no  means;  not  even  whence  they 
came  or  what  were  their  necessities.  Yet  those 
monsters  of  the  deep  must  hail  from  somewhere,  and 
could  he  but  put  himself  on  board  without  detection 
he  would  be  carried  thither.  Whether  they  pos- 
sessed a  like  means  of  subsistence  he  did  not  know; 
tradition  did  not  tell  him  that,  but  he  did  know  that 
the  sea  and  the  air  contained  food  such  as  he  required, 
and  so  long  as  they  did  not  go  beyond  these  he  felt 
reasonably  sure  of  being  able  to  provide  for  himself. 
His  very  finger  tips  tingled  with  expectation  —  but 
Kinsan  arose  in  his  mind  and  he  half  whispered : 

"No,  I  cannot,  must  not  go  without  first  seeing 
her.  It  is  my  duty,  her  right." 

Presently  he  started  off  and,  not  knowing  just  where 
to  go,  unconsciously  turned  toward  Kinsan's  house, 
opposite  to  whence  he  came.  A  flight  of  less  than  a 
half  dozen  steps  led  down  a  small  declivity,  and  when 
he  had  nearly  reached  the  bottom  he  almost  stumbled 
upon  Kinsan,  who  lay,  with  her  hands  folded,  crouch- 
ing upon  the  lower  step.  He  stooped  quietly  over 


76  Shibusawa 

her  and  whispered,  "Kinsan,"  but  she  did  not  answer 
him. 

"She  is  sleeping,"  thought  he,  "and  I  will  sit  here 
at  her  side  until  she  has  awakened.  The  pause  will 
give  me  time  to  choose  the  words,  and  her  presence 
the  courage  to  speak." 

The  warm  breeze  fanned  and  soothed,  and  the  still, 
clear  night  inspired  him.  His  mind  ran  on  and  out 
until  transported  into  boundless  fancy.  The  earth, 
the  sun,  the  moon,  and  the  stars  were  not  of  his 
world.  All  were  in  the  great  abyss  beyond.  He 
spoke,  saying: 

"Where?" 

A  voice  answered: 

"At  my  side." 

He  said: 

"At  the  side  of  whom?" 

The  voice  said: 

"Love." 

He  looked.  The  darkness  disappeared,  and  a  flood 
of  light  streamed  around  them  and  away  into  limit- 
less space.  He  said: 

"I  have  found  the  Light." 

And  she  whispered: 

"You  are  my  god." 

Kinsan  had  arisen,  and  together  they  walked  into 
the  cave,  and  there  sat  and  looked  and  talked  and 
reasoned  for  a  long  time. 

Not  so  very  long  before  Shibusawa 's  arrival  at  the 
cave  a  mysterious  voice  had  called  Kinsan,  and  she 
had  gone  there,  kneeling  at  the  stone  steps  as  she  had 
knelt  and  prayed  since  their  last  meeting.  From 
that  time  she  had  not  entered  the  enclosure,  but  held 
it  as  a  place  sacred  even  to  her.  It  was  the  throne 


The   Wedding    Feast  77 

upon  which  sat  her  love,  her  life,  her  god.  There  she 
could  not  enter,  but  at  his  feet  she  was  wont  to  kneel 
and  pray  that  he  be  saved,  that  the  light  return,  and 
that  he  proclaim  her  his  own,  his  goddess  love. 

It  was  long  after  midnight  when  Shibusawa  and 
Kinsan  fully  understood  each  other  and  again  pledged 
their  faith  and  vowed  their  never-ending  love:  when 
the  stars  witnessed  their  seal,  and  they  parted  and 
went  according  to  their  destined  way. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE    STOWAWAYS 

SHIBUSAWA  ran  toward  his  house  with  a  fleet 
foot  and  a  light  heart.  He  had  fully  made  up  his 
mind  to  go  if  possible  on  board  one  of  the  strange  ships 
and  sail  away  with  the  fleet.  Whither  he  did  not 
know ;  nor  did  he  consider  when  or  how  he  should  be 
able  to  return.  These  were  trifles  with  which  he  "did 
not  concern  himself,  for  the  one  person  above  all 
others  to  whom  his  life  was  fully  consecrated  had 
pledged  her  faith  in  his  undertaking,  and  he  proposed 
boldly  and  resolutely  to  go  forward  into  the  dark 
unknown. 

His  adventure  might  carry  him  into  limitless  space, 
possibly  land  him  upon  the  shores  of  another  world; 
or  it  might  cross  over  the  irresistible  or  emerge  beyond 
the  impenetrable.  The  home  of  this  strange  people 
might  be  the  centre  of  a  molten  universe  or  the 
frozen  arc  of  an  indescribable  radius;  whatever  it 
was,  he  had  builded  his  hopes  upon  that  faith  which 
invites  us  beyond  the  grave  and  makes  life  worth  the 
living. 

With  nothing  more  than  a  pilgrim  outfit  and  what 
seemed  to  him  a  goodly  supply  of  ready  money  Shibu- 
sawa  and  Okyo  stole  their  way  to  the  side  of  the 
most  convenient  man-of-war.  The  day  was  just 
breaking  and  the  harbour  already  swarming  with 
sampans,  filled  and  manned  with  the  curiously  in- 
clined. After  a  while  with  much  bickering  and 

78 


The    Stowaways  79 

bartering  they  succeeded  in  getting  aboard,  where 
they  were  safely  stowed  away  among  the  stokers 
and  lay  anxiously  awaiting  the  ship's  departure. 

In  the  meantime  Commodore  Perry  had  despatched 
an  early  message  to  the  shogun,  requesting  an  imme- 
diate audience  with  his  duly  accredited  representative ; 
and  as  this  request  seemed  to  be  backed  by  proper 
credentials,  and  had  been  heralded  by  a  strange,  bold 
display  of  force,  the  now  thoroughly  terrorised  auto- 
crat of  the  flowery  kingdom  yielded  a  point  and  forth- 
with directed  the  anxious  but  nowhere  to  be  found 
Ikamon  to  visit  his  grace,  the  Commodore,  on  board 
his  ship.  Ikamon  had  disappeared!  Maido  was  sub- 
stituted, and  to  the  surprise  of  the  hastily  summoned 
council  and  the  chagrin  of  Tetsutaisho  this  confer- 
ence did  not  last  more  than  an  hour,  while  their  rights 
seemed  arbitrarily  decreed.  The  ambitious  commander 
had  reduced  his  request  to  somewhat  the  form  of 
an  ultimatum,  which  he  politely  delivered,  promising 
immediately  to  withdraw  his  ships,  and  in  one  year 
return  for  an  answer. 

The  purpose  of  the  visit  and  the  conditions  of  the 
withdrawal  alike  remained  unknown  to  Shibusawa, 
who  now  lay  wholly  occupied  with  the  strange, 
mysterious  things  around  him.  He  had  not  as  yet 
been  missed  on  shore,  for  the  excitement  was  great, 
and  his  absence  attracted  no  particular  attention. 
His  father,  like  all  the  shogun's  court,  was  busily 
engaged  with  what  seemed  to  him  a  threatening 
danger.  Takara  gave  herself  very  little  concern 
about  him,  and  Nehachibana  was  already  too  well 
employed  with  watching  her  recently  affianced 
Tetsutaisho. 

Therefore,  when  the  white  squadron  filed  out,  all 


80  Shibusawa 

those  on  shore  breathed  a  token  of  relief,  and  were 
happy  for  the  departure,  except  perchance  one  at 
the  hidden  cave,  whose  gladness  sprang  only  from 
her  faith.  She  stood  there  pondering  and  watching 
until  the  last  ship  had  passed  from  sight,  and  then 
she  turned  with  a  sigh  to  the  place  which  had  brought 
her  such  joy  only  because  of  the  pain.  Kinsan  re- 
turned that  morning  to  her  home  a  happier  woman. 
She  had  met  life's  first  severe  trial  and  had  stood  the 
test  and  won  the  battle,  for  she  now  knew  the  power 
of  faith. 

Before  leaving  home  Shibusawa  had  penned  a 
short  message  to  his  father,  and  one  to  his  wife.  He 
informed  Takara  that  he  should  be  absent  for  a  long 
time,  and  advised  her  to  seek  such  happiness  as  she 
herself  might  find.  To  his  father  he  explained  more 
fully  his  departure,  his  intentions,  and  his  hopes. 
Again  he  urged  Maido  to  accept  the  situation,  feel 
assured  of  his  safety,  and  fully  confide  in  his  purposes. 

As  the  ship  rolled  out  upon  the  great  ocean  Shibu- 
sawa gained  a  parting  glimpse  of  his  native  land,  and 
there  came  over  him,  only  for  an  instant,  a  feeling 
of  awe  mingled  with  something  of  regret.  Then  he 
dismissed  the  past  and  thenceforth  looked  only  to 
the  future. 


CHAPTER  XI 

CAST    ADRIFT 

UPON  sailing  out  into  the  open  water  the  little 
squadron  encountered  calm  weather  and  a 
smooth  sea,  and  as  they  had  taken  the  outside  course 
it  was  late  at  night  before  the  Black  Current  was  left 
behind.  The  phosphorescent  light  danced  and 
played,  while  the  air  grew  warm  and  balmy;  though 
Shibusawa  since  leaving  sight  of  land  ventured  not 
so  high  as  a  port -hole  to  enjoy  the  delights  of  a  summer 
night  on  the  Eastern  seas.  In  fact,  the  first  relaxa- 
tion from  the  excitement  of  getting  off,  the  swaying 
of  the  ship,  the  warmth  of  the  boilers,  and  the  close- 
ness of  the  atmosphere  combined  to  make  him  drowsy, 
and  he  crawled  forward  and  hid  himself  away  between 
great  rolls  of  canvas,  where  he  went  fast  asleep. 

Nor  did  he  after  he  had  awakened  attempt  to  stir 
from  his  hiding-place  until  hunger  and  thirst  had 
driven  him  out.  Then  he  came,  blindly  searching 
for  the  one  who  had  undertaken  for  an  advance  con- 
sideration to  "stow"  and  feed  him  and  his  companion 
until  the  ship  landed  at  Shanghai,  its  proposed  desti- 
nation. And  when  he  finally  did  after  much  con- 
fusion find  his  provider  he  was  surprised  and  mortified 
at  the  treatment  meted  him. 

"Take  that,  Indian,  and  mind  y'u  that  'mum  is 
the  word',"  said  the  churlish  stoker,  as  he  tossed 
him  an  old  tin  half  filled  with  cold  stew,  earlier  in  the 
day  purloined  from  the  mess. 

81 


82  Shibusawa 

Shibusawa  said  nothing  and  took  the  food,  though 
not  without  a  look  of  resentment.  He  did  not  under- 
stand the  words,  but  from  the  fellow's  gruff  manner 
suspected  something  of  his  meaning.  Those  last 
words,  "mum  is  the  word,"  impressed  him,  and  in- 
tuitively he  felt  they  in  some  way  related  to  manner. 
This  he  afterwards  so  thoroughly  impressed  upon 
Okyo's  mind  that  he,  doubtful  slave,  learned  no 
more  "European,"  but  made  that  much  serve  his 
every  purpose. 

Had  Shibusawa  been  more  politic,  and  accepted 
the  situation  as  a  necessary  consequence  of  his  un- 
congenial surroundings,  he  might  have  escaped  further 
insult,  but  that  characteristic  look  of  his  gave  the  big, 
sooty  stoker  further  occasion  to  "show  off,"  whereat 
he  pounced  upon  him  with  his  big  bony  hand  in  such 
manner  as  to  send  his  now  bewildered  charge  sprawl- 
ing over  the  loose  coals,  saying,  gruffly: 

"Ahoy  wid  y'u!  I'll  teach  y'u  to  scud  y'r  gang. 
I'll  take  a  reef  in  y'r  jib,  y'u  blubberene!  " 

Shibusawa  made  no  attempt  to  resist  the  attack, 
but  consoled  himself  in  the  belief  that  there  were 
others  to  be  found  in  this  strange  civilisation  that 
were  less  impolite.  He  tried  to  relish  the  food, 
though  he  could  not  bear  its  smell,  much  less  its  taste. 
It  was  different  cooking  from  any  he  had  ever  eaten, 
and  the  seasoning  —  well,  it  was  no  worse  than  the 
ingredients,  which  he  suspected  to  be  mostly  flesh  of 
some  kind  or  another. 

"Can  these  strange  people  be  cannibals?  Yes, 
they  must  be,  else  whence  did  they  obtain  this  greasy 
stuff?"  queried  he,  as  he  thought  of  his  own  fate. 

Shibusawa,  however,  had  not  started  off  entirely 
unprepared,  but  upon  leaving  home  had  thrust  into 


Cast    Adrift  83 

the  folds  of  his  girdle  a  few  handfuls  of  loose  rice  and  a 
small  skin  of  fresh  water.  Now  that  he  was  hungry 
for  food  that  he  could  eat  and  water  that  he  could 
drink  he  withdrew  into  a  lonely  corner  and  helped 
himself  sparingly.  In  the  matter  of  clothing  he  was 
more  fortunate,  for  early  upon  his  advent  he  had 
succeeded  in  bargaining  for  a  pair  of  blue  overalls 
and  jumper,  besides  cowhide  shoes  and  a  sailor's  cap. 
For  Okyo,  he  had  as  yet  procured  only  a  shirt  and 
the  shoes  —  the  remainder  being  promised  upon  their 
arrival  at  Shanghai.  Thus  the  day  passed,  though 
it  was  not  later  than  four  o'clock  when  it  began  sud- 
denly to  grow  dark. 

The  air  was  becoming  oppressive  and  the  pressure 
rapidly  dropping.  Presently  the  ship's  men  began 
hurrying  here  and  there  under  enforced  orders,  and 
everywhere  about  there  seemed  a  hushed,  anxious 
feeling.  The  barometer  now  registered  27,077  and 
the  captain  took  his  place  on  the  bridge.  The 
stokers'  shovels  rang  from  below  with  the  rhythm  of 
their  merry  "he-ho,"  and  the  black  clouds  of  smoke 
rolled  aft  in  her  wake.  The  boatswain's  hardy  voice 
rose  high  above  the  rattling  of  cordage  and  the  plank- 
ing of  hatchways.  The  half-hour  bell  solemnly 
tolled,  and  a  pall-like  stillness  settled  over  all  as  the 
storm-centre  lowered  around  them. 

A  hush,  a  whirl,  a  roar  —  and  the  suspense  was 
over.  The  storm  had  burst,  and  the  typhoon  was 
on.  The  head-on  bell  sounded  and  the  grimy  funnels 
belched  clouds  of  sparks,  and  the  ponderous  ship 
hurled  a  foaming  surf  and  furrowed  the  angry  sea 
like  a  demon  waging  a  last  defence.  The  fire  flashed 
and  the  heavens  roared  and  rumbled,  while  every 
man  braced  himself  at  his  post.  Sea  after  sea  lashed 


84  Shibusawa 

and  drove  upon  her  decks.  Her  cabins  creaked 
and  her  beams  trembled.  The  breathless  lurches, 
the  awful  plunges,  the  terrific  pounding,  all  told 
of  her  mighty  battle  for  life  and  of  the  uncertainty 
of  man's  contention  with  the  mad  fury  of  the 
elements. 

In  the  midst  of  the  awful  storm  Shibusawa  became 
deathly  sick,  and  made  a  desperate  effort  to  gain  the 
upper  deck.  Several  times  he  had  been  discovered 
and  as  often  beaten  back,  but  the  want  of  fresh  air 
and  the  uncertainty  of  his  position  each  time  im- 
pelled him  to  further  effort.  At  last  he  succeeded 
in  reaching  the  open  hatchway,  and  watching  his 
chance  slipped  by  and  clambered  upon  the  open  deck. 
Here  the  wind  caught  him  up  and  hurled  him  along 
the  slippery  plank  and  headlong  aft,  where  he  lodged 
in  a  tangled  mass  of  ddbris.  A  lone  boatswain  caught 
him  from  going  overboard,  and  in  the  hurry  and 
excitement  lashed  him  to  a  life  raft  which  had  been 
swept  up  by  the  last  wave.  The  hardy  fellow  had 
barely  covered  his  own  safety  when  another  high  sea 
caught  the  ship  abaft  her  starboard  bow  and  swept 
over  her  deck  like  a  monstrous  tidal  wave. 

"Man  overboard!"  cried  the  boatswain,  as  Shibu- 
sawa and  his  life  raft  disappeared  behind  the 
tumbling,  heaving,  jagged  mountain,  that  rolled,  and 
moaned,  and  foamed  in  the  distance. 

His  voice  was  lost  in  the  din  of  wind  and  rain  that 
swept  down  from  the  bridge  above. 

"All  under  deck  and  make  fast  your  hatchway!" 
shouted  the  captain,  as  the  quartermaster  tugged  at 
the  helm's  tangled  gear. 

"We  must  throw  her  into  the  trough  of  the  sea, 
mate,  else  we  are  lost,"  continued  he,  as  the  disabled 


Cast    Adrift  85 

apparatus  failed  to  steer,  and  a  swelling,  growling 
sea  came  speeding  on. 

A  crash,  a  splash,  and  a  shiver  —  and  the  big  ship 
lay  as  if  stunned,  and  debating  whether  after  all  life 
is  worth  the  trial.  Then  slowly  she  began  to  rise, 
and  the  terrible  suspense  was  over.  Caged  and  fear- 
ful men  were  now  assured  of  her  determination  to 
survive,  and  they  loved  and  praised  and  trusted  her. 
There  was  no  longer  any  doubt,  but  every  soul  would 
have  pledged  his  life  that  she  would  win  the  battle. 
Rising  again  she  rolled  to  starboard,  as  if  bantering 
her  oncoming  assailant  for  the  second  trial.  This 
one,  larger,  though  calmer  than  the  first,  took  her 
amidship  and  heaved  her  over  on  her  port  side ;  then 
as  if  unmindful  rolled  on  and  over  the  submerged 
ship.  Not  a  man  lost  his  courage  as  she  sank  and 
sank,  and  seemed  to  go  farther  and  farther  toward 
the  ghoulish  bottom,  but  with  each  faint  feeling  there 
came  a  responsive  voice  that  rang  with  certainty: 

"She'll  win,  boys;  just  give  her  time." 

Presently  she  sank  no  more,  but  rested,  as  if  satis- 
fied to  venture  no  farther.  Then  she  raised  a  little, 
then  more,  and  still  more,  until  at  last  she  leaped 
upon  the  surface  and  bounded  about  like  a  cork  on 
the  water.  She  had  won,  and  the  third  wave  pushed 
her  down,  and  dropped  her  broadside  into  the  trough 
of  the  sea.  There  she  lay,  and  tossed  at  the  water's 
will  until  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  when  the 
typhoon  had  passed  and  the  seas  were  again  calm. 

Shibusawa's  disappearance  was  lamented  by  none 
but  two.  When  cast  adrift  he  was  so  blinded  by  the 
spray  and  drenched  with  water  that  he  could  neither 
see  nor  hear.  Fortunately  his  frail  raft  did  not  cap- 
size but  remained  right  side  up,  and  he  clung  fast 


86  Shibusawa 

with  a  tenacity  possessed  only  by  one  who  is  in  the 
very  jaws  of  horrible  death.  He  was  a  good  swimmer 
and  accustomed  to  the  water,  else  he  might  not  have 
fared  even  so  well  as  not  to  have  been  washed  away. 

All  night  long  he  drifted  in  the  darkness,  not  know- 
ing where  he  was  or  just  how  he  came  to  be  there. 
He  knew  nothing  of  such  conditions  and  had  never 
heard  of  a  similar  circumstance,  yet  instinct  told  him 
how  best  to  make  use  of  the  slender  means  at  hand; 
necessity  moved  him  to  do  so.  The  wind  blew  and 
the  seas  lashed.  He  did  not  cry  out,  nor  did  he  lose 
courage,  for  he  had  resolved  to  meet  his  fate  like  a 
man.  Day  came  and  passed  and  he  was  still  alone. 
Toward  night  the  wind  had  gone  down,  and  he  could 
relax  his  hold  and  ease  his  tired  arms  and  numb 
limbs.  He  quenched  his  thirst  a  bit  from  the  skin 
of  water,  which  he  still  carried,  and  then  ate  sparingly 
of  the  rice  in  his  pocket.  As  the  gloom  began  to 
turn  into  darkness  he  for  the  last  time  stretched  him- 
self and  looked  around,  but  could  see  nothing  except 
perilous  waters.  For  many  long  hours  he  nerved 
himself  to  the  task,  and  not  until  the  sun  rose  the 
next  morning  did  he  succumb  to  the  terrible  exhaus- 
tion. Then  he  sank  down  and  saw  no  more,  but 
dreamed  of  Kinsan  and  of  the  rescue  that  soon  would 
save  him  from  a  watery  grave. 

It  was  about  three  o'clock  of  that  afternoon  when  the 
Fair  Puget,  a  lumber  schooner  from  Puget  Sound,  hove 
into  sight  on  her  return  trip  from  Shanghai,  where  she 
had  recently  discharged  a  cargo  of  timber.  The  trim 
little  ship  was  sailing  under  a  fair  wind  and  the  veteran 
captain,  Thomas  N.  Thompson,  was  at  the  wheel. 

"Come  here,  Jack,"  said  he  to  his  lone  mate,  as  he 
knocked  the  ashes  from  a  rusty  box-elder  pipe,  which 


Cast    Adriit  87 

he  jammed  into  his  grey  trousers  hip  pocket.  "Try 
the  glasses  on  yon  bit  of  drift,  Jack,  and  see  if  y'u 
c'n  make  out  the  like  of  it." 

Jack  took  the  long,  brass-trimmed,  rust-stained 
glasses  and  adjusted  them  to  his  widely  set  eyes, 
threw  his  shoulders  back  and  his  middle  forward, 
and  squinted  with  first  one  eye,  then  the  other. 
Presently  he  lowered  the  glasses  and  with  much 
deliberation  drew  from  his  washed-out  overalls 
pocket  a  long  plug  of  navy,  from  which  he  calmly 
bit  a  huge  quid.  He  then  raised  the  glasses  a  second 
time,  taking  great  pains  as  he  did  so  to  re-adjust  and 
fit  them  to  the  importance  of  the  occasion.  After 
several  times  shifting  his  weight  from  one  foot  to  the 
other,  he  lowered  the  glasses  and  placed  his  arms 
akimbo  and  said  in  an  offhand  manner: 

"I  don't  see  nothin'.  I  guess  it's  a  log  'r  two 
adrift.  Glad  we  don't  have  to  reef  in  —  she  's  makin' 
a  deuced  good  eight  knots  now,  and  I  don't  see  no 
let  up  ahe'd." 

"S'p'osin"  you  give  me  a  spell  here 't  the  wheel, 
Jack,  and  let  me  take  a  squint  on  't.  Somehow  I 
feel  it  in  my  bones  —  feel 't  there  's  something  more  'n 
drift  in  that  bunch,"  said  Tom  N.,  as  he  was  familiarly 
called  over  at  the  Blakely  Mills,  where  he  had  been 
getting  charters  since  the  first  cargo  left  its  port. 

"All  right,  cap'n.  You're  the  judge,  and  I'm  not 
objectin  ',so  long  as  we  don't  have  to  heave  to.  It 
'u'd  be  a  tarnation  pity  to  spile  this  beautiful  head 
on  —  you  know  we  're  already  short  on  time.  That 
whirl er  was  a  corker,  wan't  she,  cap'n? "  said  the  easy- 
going fellow,  as  he  spattered  the  deck  with  fresh 
tobacco  juice  and  toyed  with  the  wheel,  which  stood 
loosely  wound  at  his  side. 


88  Shibusawa 

"Jack,"  said  the  captain,  presently,  with  a  feeling 
of  great  satisfaction,  "there's  something  besides 
'still  life'  in  that  heap,  if  I  'm  not  mightily  mistaken. 
See  that  school  of  shark  round  there  ? ' ' 

"Are  y'u  sure  them  's  not  dog  fish,  cap'n?"  queried 
the  pretending  mate,  who  was  still  anxious  to  make 
good  use  of  a  favourable  wind,  if  not  to  avoid  hauling 
in  the  sails. 

"Yep;  they're  shark,  sure  enough,"  continued  the 
captain,  now  more  certain  than  ever.  "I  guess  we'll 
have  to  haul  to,  mate.  It  won't  do  to  pass  somethin' 
in  distress  —  not  so  long  as  Tom  N.  is  the  poop 
sheik  of  a  gig  sloop.  Not  on  your  life,  mate!  And 
who  knows  but  one  of  us  '11  be  the  very  next  to  man 
a  like  un'?" 

"Well,  I  s'pose  it's  the  order,  then?"  said  Jack, 
gloomily.  "I'll  bet,  though,  it's  nothin'  more 'n  a 
'Jap,'  even  if  we  do  heave  to." 

Jack  lost  no  time  in  putting  the  men  to  work,  and, 
as  usual,  when  he  went  at  it  in  earnest  the  thing 
was  soon  done.  The  little  three-master  was  brought 
to,  not  far  distant  from  the  floating  drift,  which  now 
plainly  disclosed  the  form  of  a  man.  The  excite- 
ment began  to  grow  intense,  and  Jack's  ponderous 
voice  could  have  been  heard  for  miles  around  as  he 
and  two  trustys  jumped  into  the  lifeboat  and  yelled : 

"Swing  to  the  davits  and  let  go  your  blocks!" 
Thereafter  no  time  was  lost  in  getting  the  ship- 
wrecked man  on  board,  and  in  applying  the  neces- 
sary restoratives;  though  it  was  some  time  before 
Shibusawa  fully  recovered  consciousness,  and  when 
he  did  so  they  were  again  under  full  sail  for  Port 
Blakely,  Washington. 


CHAPTER   XII 
A  WOMAN'S  PRIVILEGE 

SHIBUSAWA'S  being  washed  overboard  left  Okyo 
a  helpless  and  penniless  victim.  For  nearly  two 
days  he  managed  to  escape  being  burned  alive  in  the 
firebox,  by  the  angry  stoker,  who  was  now  deter- 
mined to  rid  himself  of  the  fruitless  charge.  Through 
fright  and  exposure  and  hunger  he  had  become  so 
nearly  dumb  that  when  discovered  and  questioned 
he  could  say  nothing  but  "mum  is  the  word."  Then 
he  was  taken  on  deck  and  offered  food  and  water, 
and  as  a  matter  of  safety  placed  in  the  guard  house, 
where  he  remained  until  the  ship  landed  at  Shanghai. 

Here  he  was  detained  until  an  opportunity  came 
to  return  him  to  his  native  land,  and  when  he  had 
finally  arrived  in  Tokyo,  some  two  months  later,  he 
was  still  unable  to  make  any  explanation  of  his  con- 
dition or  experiences.  Maido  tried  by  every  means 
to  elicit  some  word  from  him  that  might  throw  light 
upon  the  whereabouts  or  safety  of  his  son.  All  his 
efforts  were  of  no  avail,  and  the  only  thing  possible 
for  Okyo  to  say  was: 

"Mum  is  the  word." 

Okyo's  hapless  predicament — which  led  Maido 
to  think  it  possible  that  his  son  had  met  a  like  fate, 
or  even  a  worse  one  —  wore  heavily  upon  the  already 
overburdened  daimyo.  Since  the  landing  of  Commo- 
dore Perry's  fleet,  matters  of  state  were  becoming 
more  and  more  strained.  Every  day  brought  new 


90  Shibusawa 

charges  and  counter  charges  of  the  one  party  against 
the  other.  Contrary  to  Ikamon's  promises  the 
literati  had  not  been  quelled,  but  were  again  fast 
gaining  strength  throughout  the  south,  and  even  the 
mikado  himself  was  becoming  not  averse  to  listening 
to  their  bitter  complaints,  if  not  to  their  proposed 
radical  changes.  Though  Maido  was  becoming  sick 
at  heart  and  weak  of  purpose  he  could  not,  much  as 
he  desired  to  do  so,  extricate  himself  from  the  tangled 
net  that  dragged  at  the  home  or  in  the  state.  Old 
tactics  and  new  sorrows  were  little  calculated  to  bring 
him  that  peace  of  mind  and  ease  of  heart  to  which 
he  had  all  his  life  looked  forward,  and  Shibusawa 's 
absence  had  come  to  be  not  only  the  source  of  deepest 
regret  but  the  cause  of  nervous,  restless  anxiety. 

Ikamon's  schemes,  also,  were  weighing  Maido  down 
with  uncertainty ;  forcing  him  into  a  retirement  shorn 
of  every  consolation  saving  only  Nehachibana.  She 
soothed  him  and  cheered  him  and  he  worshipped  her, 
yet  this  last  and  only  comfort  was  soon  to  be  snatched 
away.  Nehachibana,  too,  was  suddenly  to  fall  a 
victim  to  Ikamon's  base  desires,  to  Tetsutaisho's 
insatiate  thirst.  Maido's  consent  was  wrung  out  of 
him  and  his  daughter  torn  from  him,  and  when  on 
a  dark,  dreary  day  early  in  September  she  was  carried 
away  the  old  man  broke  down  and  wept  bitterly. 

"You,  too,  Nehachibana,"  were  the  only  words, 
as  the  bridal  train  left,  and  wended  its  way  toward 
Tetsutaisho's  father's  house,  where  the  eager  bride- 
groom waited  this,  the  coming  of  his  latest  prey. 

They  were  married,  and  Nehachibana  was  loved 
only  till  abandoned  to  the  ill-usage  of  a  tyrannical 
mother-in-law.  The  Tetsutaishos  belonged  to  the 
samurai  class  and  as  such  were  permitted  a  small 


A    Woman's    Privilege  91 

living  within  the  outer  moat.  Tetsutaisho  was  next 
to  the  youngest  of  seven  children  —  an  elder  brother 
and  five  sisters.  The  father  had  never  risen  in  the 
ranks,  but  owing  to  dissipation  and  over-indulgence 
had  reached  a  state  of  worthlessness  which  deprived 
him  of  all  social  standing  and  reduced  his  income  to 
the  barest  necessities.  The  eldest  son  had  grown 
up  a  useless  appendage  to  an  already  declining  family, 
and  his  time  was  frittered  away  at  playing  "go"  or 
in  hanging  about  at  the  wrestling  matches.  The 
girls  had  been  at  an  early  age  regularly  sold  into 
their  kind  of  slavery,  and  in  such  manner  the  family 
managed  barely  to  subsist  until  Tetsutaisho 's  for- 
tunes began  to  rise. 

In  spite  of  this  one's  coarse  breeding  and  fallen 
rank  there  was  something  about  him  which  appealed 
to  his  superiors.  He  was  every  inch  a  soldier,  and 
few  there  were  who  could  snap  a  bow  or  flash  a  steel 
as  he.  From  childhood  he  took  a  fancy  to  every- 
thing military,  and  early  in  life  had  shown  a  disposi- 
tion to  redeem  a  lost  heritage  and  restore  his  family 
to  its  proper  rank  and  former  prowess.  However, 
such  a  thing  as  executive  ability  was  unknown  to 
him.  His  wants  did  not  go  beyond  the  hour,  and 
the  matter  of  provision  never  entered  his  head.  He 
was  hale  and  hearty,  and  a  "good  fellow  well  met." 
There  were  but  two  things  which  concerned  him  — 
war  and  women;  the  one  his  occupation,  the  other 
his  amusement. 

Therefore,  when  Nehachibana  came  to  his  father's 
home  Tetsutaisho  did  not  at  all  worry  about  the 
kind  or  quality  of  dowry  which  she  brought.  It  was 
only  her  tender  innocence  that  he  coveted,  and  that 
only  for  his  enjoyment.  For  her  he  had  no  sympathy. 


92  Shibusawa 

nothing  to  offer.  She  must  take  her  place,  as  it  was, 
and  be  contented.  He  had  not  even  thought  of  an 
heir  —  that  was  a  thing  which  as  yet  had  not  occurred 
to  him,  and  thus  it  offered  no  encouragement  to  his 
wife. 

There  was,  notwithstanding,  one  in  the  family, 
his  mother,  who  had  looked  forward  with  a  great  deal 
of  interest  to  the  coming  of  the  bride's  household 
effects,  particularly  the  presents,  and  as  they  arrived 
and  were  unpacked  she  grumbled  at  each,  no  matter 
what  the  kind  or  cost.  Nothing  pleased  her,  and 
she  said: 

"They  are  fine  enough,  but  lack  in  quality,  I  know. 
And  this  Maido,  who  is  he,  that  my  son,  my  Tetsu- 
taisho,  should  so  honour  him  as  to  take  his  daughter 
in  marriage?  Is  this  what  I  am  to  get?  And  that 
without  a  voice  ?  Verily  the  hand  of  misfortune  falls 
heavily.  Beauty  and  treasure  —  rags  and  fiddle- 
sticks! A  joros 10  would  have  brought  me  good 
returns.  And  what  is  this  I  hear  all  the  time?  God- 
dess Benten?  —  Nehachibana!  Hist!  Better  try 
your  prayers  on  Kwannon.  The  goddess  of  mercy 
is  more  likely  your  need:  the  goddess  of  love,  your 
wish." 

"O  my  most  honourable  mother-in-law,  0  my 
gracious  Fukurokuju,"  said  Nehachibana,  meekly. 
"Myself  I  most  humbly  give  you,  for  the  god  Oshaka 
has  willed  it.  May  the  god  Daikaku  smile  fortune 
upon  you!  My  Benzaiten,  my  wealth  surrender. 
My  Kaminaraba,  my  heart  I  gave.  O  Amida,  I 
pray  you  bring  me  always  hard  suffering  if  I 
now  or  ever  keep  my  mother-in-law  in  the  least 
ignorance." 

"Well  you  may  be  proud  to  serve.     Few  wives 


A    Woman's    Privilege  93 

have  husbands  who  have  mothers  who  are  so 
exceedingly  blessed  by  the  sweet,  beautiful  god  of 
good  nature,  Hoti,"  answered  the  vain  mother-in- 
law. 

"I  take  my  place  with  much  appreciation,  and  I 
now  consecrate  my  life  to  the  happy  service  of  my 
most  lovely  mother-in-law,"  said  Nehachibana,  bow- 
ing low. 

"Scissors,"  said  the  other,  while  they  both  scowled 
away. 

Nehachibana's  husband  was  at  first  exceedingly 
attentive  to  her,  and  while  he  did  not  concern  him- 
self about  her  troubles  at  home  he  rather  felt  that 
he  had  gained  a  prize  by  taking  Ikamon's  advice  and 
marrying  the  daimyo's  daughter.  He  soon  discov- 
ered that  he  had  not  only  served  a  friend,  but  im- 
proved his  own  chances;  for,  in  these  days  when 
disastrous  clouds  were  forming  so  rapidly,  any  con- 
nection which  brooked  a  stronger  alliance  with  a 
house  like  that  of  Maido's  meant  certain  favour  to 
those  concerned. 

Tetsutaisho,  however,  was  not  always  over-saga- 
cious, and  as  time  went  on  he  began  to  exploit  his 
fortunes  in  other  directions  than  at  home.  Kinsan 
had  managed  to  keep  well  out  of  his  way  and 
therefore,  though  not  forgotten,  out  of  his  mind. 
Probably,  also,  he  was  somewhat  lax  in  pressing  his 
fondness  there  because  of  the  demands  made  upon  his 
attention  by  Takara,  his  rather  ardent  sister-in-law. 
In  fact,  it  was  at  Nehachibana's  homegoing  party 
that  he  had  first  begun  to  feel  something  more  than 
a  brotherly  interest  in  the  deep  and  unfathomable 
wife  of  Shibusawa.  And  as  they  sat  together  there, 
on  the  veranda,  with  now  and  then  a  falling  leaf  to 


94  Shibusawa 

remind  them  of  the  oncoming  season,  she  looked  un- 
usually pretty,  and  her  rather  sad,  far-away  look  did 
anything  but  lessen  her  attractiveness,  as  she  looked 
up  to  him  and  said  : 

"Do  you  think  me  not  enough  composed  for  one 
so  newly  married,  Tetsutaisho  ? " 

"No,  Takara,"  answered  he,  meditatively.  "I 
was  just  remarking  to  myself  how  well  you  wore 
the  care.  I'll  venture  his  reward  vouchsafes  the 
kindness." 

"I  trust  so." 

"  He  could  only  say  as  much." 

"Why?" 

"I  will  tell  you  sometime;  I  must  go  now  —  Neha- 
chibana  is  waiting  for  me.  See  her  —  she  is  actually 
coming  toward  us." 

"Why,  Nehachibana,"  continued  he,  speaking  to 
his  wife,  "you  really  look  a  trifle  jealous.  How  now, 
my  beauty  treasure?" 

"Oh,  no;  she's  not  jealous,"  said  Takara,  quickly 
divining  the  situation;  "only  men  have  the  right  to 
be  jealous,  women  the  privilege." 

"Oh,  Takara!  How  you  do  talk!"  said  Nehachi- 
bana, flushed  and  gladdened.  "I  should  lose  my 
tongue  were  I  to  scold  like  that.  I  know  I  should. 
No  man  would  have  the  patience  with  me,  much  less 
would  my  husband." 

"Nehachibana  is  right,"  said  Tetsutaisho,  consol- 
ingly. "A  man  regards,  and  a  husband  disregards. 
And  why  not?  Come,  my  little  wife,  let  us  be  off 
and  away.  There  be  times  when  even  virtue  has  not 
its  reward." 

Takara  gracefully  yielded  to  the  unpleasant  inter- 
ruption, and  for  a  week  or  more  no  further  intercourse 


A    Woman's    Privilege  95 

was  had  with  Tetsutaisho.  He  became  suddenly  so 
enrapt  with  Nehachibana  that  for  the  time  being  he 
forgot  all  about  Takara  and  the  innocent  flush  which 
had  come  to  her  cheeks  in  speaking  of  marriage  and 
its  attendant  influences.  It  was  not  so  with  Takara. 
She  remembered  well  his  words  and  how  he 
brightened  with  interest  at  her  every  whim  and 
fancy ;  then  she  thought  of  how  happy  Nehachibana 
must  be. 

"I  am  not  jealous,"  said  she  to  herself,  time  and 
time  again.  "It  is  only  Nehachibana.  I  do  not 
know  such  a  thing;  only  other  women  are  jealous. 
I  wonder  why?  Nor  do  I  envy  anybody.  I  only 
wish  Shibusawa  were  like  Tetsutaisho.  How  I  would 
love  him  —  love  him,  oh,  love  him!  " 

Often  her  feelings  ran  on  and  on  until  she  fancied 
her  own  husband  the  hero  of  her  life.  No  taint  had 
ever  entered  her  heart.  She  believed  him  the  master 
of  her  destiny  and  the  fulfilment  of  her  fortunes. 
Then  Tetsutaisho  came  again,  toward  the  latter  part 
of  September,  and  she  was  not  displeased  with  his 
courtesies.  He  had  come  at  the  instance  of  Ikamon 
to  talk  over  the  matter  of  the  shogun's  successor  — 
that  lyeyoshi  was  now  ill  and  there  seemed  to  be  no 
hope  of  his  recovery  —  but,  presently  he  came,  there 
arrived  a  message  for  Maido  to  appear  forthwith  at 
a  council  meeting  (prefacing  the  expected),  at  which 
the  grief -stricken  daimyo  hurried  away,  leaving  the 
young  and  careless  general  there  to  entertain  the 
ladies  or  idle  away  his  time  at  will. 

It  was  a  quiet  afternoon  and  Tetsutaisho  and 
Takara  wandered  off  beneath  the  falling  leaves  to 
a  sheltered  place  on  the  lawn.  Takara  was  lonely. 
She  had  had  no  friendships  since  Tetsutaisho 's  last 


96  Shibusawa 

visit  except  only  Maido's,  her  father-in-law.  To  him 
she  was  already  beginning  to  be  a  comfort,  and  in 
a  measure  to  take  the  place  of  his  lost  daughter. 
But  it  was  an  old  man's  friendship;  and  when  the 
younger  gallant  left  her  that  evening  she  may  have 
bidden  him  welcome  to  return. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

DANGER    IN    SHIBUSAWA's    ABSENCE 

SO  far  as  Tetsutaisho  was  concerned  he  had  called 
at  the  daimyo's  castle  only  by  accident,  though 
there  was  much  anxiety  and  probably  no  one's  for- 
tune more  at  stake.  lyeyoshi  had  grown  old  and 
inert  amidst  strained  conditions,  and  appreciated 
more  fully  than  could  lyesada,  his  youthful  suc- 
cessor, the  necessity  of  advancing  the  bold,  heedless 
young  general.  Nor  was  Tetsutaisho  free  from  the 
danger  of  rival  aspirants;  yet  there  was  no  war  at 
hand,  and  he  knew  of  no  better  business  than  pleasing 
Ikamon  and  paying  respect  to  the  ladies  at  court. 

Here  he  need  not  concern  himself  with  rivalry, 
for  the  one  guided  with  a  jealous  eye  his  rising  place 
and  the  other  enjoyed  without  interruption  his  pleas- 
ing address.  He  came  and  went  at  will,  and  had  he 
not  sooner  possessed  an  unknown  love  he  might  have 
quicker  formed  an  attachment.  Takara  responded 
naturally  to  the  voice  of  inevitable  will,  but  a  yearn- 
ing heart  unconsciously  bade  him  seek  Kinsan. 

Without  neglecting  the  former,  he  pressed  his  suit 
for  the  latter,  and  now  more  than  ever  became  a 
faithful  caller  at  the  modest  cottage  in  the  garden; 
and  as  he  persisted  Kinsan  determined  and  with- 
drew patiently  into  the  solitude  of  her  unknown  re- 
treat, and  there  conjured  feelings  of  love  that  ripened 
with  each  thought  and  strengthened  in  the  face  of 
every  danger.  Filial  affection  bound  her  and  crowned 

97 


98  Shibusawa 

her,  yet  she  was  possessed  of  a  new  force,  moved  by 
a  deeper  impulse.  She  battled  with  the  inevitable 
and  yielded  her  life  to  what  seemed  to  be  the  impos- 
sible; no  quarter  was  given,  and  fate  tracked  her  even 
to  her  last  place  of  hope. 

It  was  on  a  warm  afternoon  in  early  spring,  when 
the  clouds  overhung  with  threatening  storm,  that 
Tetsutaisho,  hurrying  toward  his  home,  wended  his 
way  along  the  selfsame  pathway,  which  led  past 
Kinsan's  lonely  spot  on  the  hillside.  As  he  came 
into  sight  a  gust  of  wind  swept  down  the  gully  and 
whipped  his  kimono  close  round  his  limbs.  He 
paused  and  looked  overhead,  but  none  too  soon,  for 
large  drops,  falling  straight  and  swift,  warned  him 
of  the  rapidly  approaching  downpour. 

"If  I  mistake  not,"  said  he,  to  himself,  "I  shall 
get  a  good  drenching  this  time.  I  wonder  what 
shelter  is  that  in  the  distance?  If  I  could  get  there 
without  too  much  hobbling  —  it  is  my  only  chance. 
I  shall  venture." 

If  he  had  but  looked  closer  he  might  also  have 
seen  Kinsan,  who  had  gone  there  earlier  in  the  day 
to  escape  his  presence  at  her  house.  However,  she 
saw  him,  and  when  he  left  the  path  she  had  so  often 
watched  him  tread  her  heart  stood  still  and  she 
trembled  with  fright.  He  was  surely  coming,  and 
there  was  no  possible  means  of  escape.  She  ap- 
pealed not  to  the  gods,  but  grasped  at  intuition;  her 
secret  hiding-place  offered  an  alternate,  and  quickly 
entering  she  covered  her  safety  as  best  she  could. 

Tetsutaisho  found  his  way  there;  and  in  time, 
for  it  had  not  yet  begun  to  rain,  though  great  clouds 
were  massing  and  the  sky  was  growing  dark  and 
hollow.  He  entered  the  scant  shelter  with  no  con- 


Danger  in  Shibusawa's  Absence      99 

cern  about  its  past  or  thought  of  its  significance. 
It  was  a  covering,  and  though  dreary  he  faced  about 
and  looked  out  at  the  grand  panorama  of  mingled 
peace  and  storm  its  outlook  brought  into  view.  He 
stood  with  folded  arms,  likening  the  elements  to  a 
marshalling  of  the  samurai,  in  which  he  should  some- 
time startle  the  land  and  bring  glory  to  himself. 
And  then  he  thought  of  Kinsan  and  of  how  she,  too, 
were  she  there  would  under  such  a  spell  acknowledge 
his  unalterable  right.  He  straightened  back  and 
marvelled  at  his  greatness,  while  the  lowering  clouds 
rumbled  afar. 

Then  suddenly  a  submerged  sneeze  at  his  back 
frightened  him,  and  he  wheeled  about  and  peered 
into  the  gloom  at  the  dumb,  bleak  walls.  He  could 
see  no  one,  and  suddenly  it  grew  dark,  and  clashing 
thunder  broke  overhead.  Again  he  was  startled  by 
the  same  mysterious  sound,  and  he  fell  down  and 
cried  : 

"  It  is  the  ghost  of  Taira!  " 

Scarcely  had  he  uttered  the  words  when  the  rain  be- 
gan to  pour,  and  the  ghoulish  sound  once  more  started 
him  to  his  feet,  and  he  ran  out  into  the  driving  storm 
and  dashed  down  the  hillside,  toward  his  home,  far  be- 
yond the  second  moat.  Here,  soaked  and  exhausted, 
he  hid  himself  in  his  room  and  pondered  deeply  the 
voice  at  the  cave.  The  rain  pounded  overhead,  and 
in  each  corner  there  seemed  lurking  a  spirit  —  he 
heard  many  sounds. 

It  was  a  warning,  and  the  next  day  Tetsutaisho 
was  at  the  council  chamber,  early  and  faithful.  He 
heard  Ikamon  argue  against  change,  and  in  favour 
of  continuance;  comprehended  his  meaning,  that 
natural  growth  is  the  law  of  the  gods;  and  agreed 


ioo  Shibusawa 

with  his  charge,  that  nothing  short  of  revolution 
could  overthrow  a  system  that  followed  regular, 
active,  inherent  growth. 

"What,"  said  the  prime  minister,  with  squeaking 
voice  and  expressionless  face,  "would  you  have  us 
do?  Change  our  course  now  that  the  storm  drives 
at  our  front  and  the  breakers  rise  behind  us  ?  Would 
you  at  mid-stream  change  this  good  old  ship,  that 
has  weathered  the  storm  of  ages,  for  one  that  is  new 
and  untried?  No;  a  thousand  times  no!  and  may 
such  men  as  Maido,  Saigo,  Kotsu,  Tetsutaisho,  and  — 
if  I  may  be  permitted  —  Ikamon,  live  to  helm  her 
safely  into  port.  lyesada,  brave  captain  that  he  is, 
cannot  afford  to  man  his  ship  with  other  than  the 
skilled  and  experienced,  and  where  else  can  he  find 
them  but  at  the  post  of  duty  ?  This  is  the  plan  which 
I  propose,  and  I  call  upon  every  loyal  citizen,  every 
adherent  of  the  august  shogun,  and  every  lover  of 
the  divine  mikado,  to  rally  to  my  support." 

They  came;  the  victory  was  his;  and  the  shogun 
more  than  ever  in  his  power.  Katsu  was  soon  there- 
after placed  at  the  head  of  the  navy,  and  Tetsutaisho 
advanced  to  the  command  of  the  army.  It  was  the 
reward  his  friends  had  given  him  for  his  loyalty,  and 
he  took  the  advancement  as  a  matter  of  course,  not 
even  deigning  to  return  thanks  or  offer  a  promise. 
So  far  as  he  was  concerned  his  friends  were  his  for- 
tune, and  even  the  law  of  the  land  had  no  place  as 
between  him  and  them. 

Under  Ikamon's  domination  Tetsutaisho  was  re- 
lieved of  the  necessity  for  any  particular  state  activi- 
ties, while  his  promotion  had  placed  him  socially 
at  the  head  of  the  samurai,  as  had  his  marriage  to 
Nehachibana  raised  him  in  esteem  among  the  nobil- 


Danger  in   Shibusawa's  Absence     101 

ity  and  given  him  standing  at  court.  The  state 
furnished  him  with  luxuriant  quarters,  where  he 
domiciled  his  family,  under  the  immediate  sway  of 
his  fault-finding  mother,  with  Nehachibana  as  her 
patient,  industrious  slave.  Time  passed  leisurely, 
and  as  he  had  long  ago  forgotten  his  desperate  resolve 
he  was  wont  more  than  ever  to  make  regular  calls 
at  his  father-in-law's  house. 

As  these  visits  grew  in  frequency,  the  length  of  his 
stay  became  less  guarded;  and  Takara,  at  first  look- 
ing upon  his  coming  as  a  pleasing  incident,  recurring 
now  and  then  in  her  monotonous  life,  welcomed  him, 
then  looked  for  him,  and  now,  that  his  had  come  to 
be  her  only  true  companionship,  longed  for  his 
coming. 

"You  will  come  to-morrow,  will  you  not,  Tetsu- 
taisho?"  said  she,  with  pleading,  wistful  eyes,  as  he 
was  about  to  leave  her  on  a  warm,  inviting  night  in 
June. 

"Yes,  Takara,"  answered  he,  softly  and  earnestly. 
"I  will  come  over,  and  together  we  will  watch  the 
second  sailing  of  Perry's  fleet,  the  departure  of  the 
first  man  who  ever  dared  profane  our  soil.  I  under- 
stand the  arrant  braggart  has  finally  wrung  from 
the  shogun  certain  privileges  that  are  not  less  dan- 
gerous than  disgraceful.  As  he  came,  he  will  go  out: 
booming  his  noisy  guns.  It  will  be  a  showy  thing, 
and  possibly  worth  our  seeing.  I  shall  certainly 
come,  my  lady,  especially  that  it  pleases  you  to  have 
me.  And  now,  good-night,  and  pleasant  dreams." 

Upon  the  following  day  Tetsutaisho  once  more 
wandered  over  to  the  council  and  for  a  time  hope- 
lessly endeavoured  to  share  in  the  tumult  occasioned 
by  the  second  appearance  of  the  American  fleet.  He 


IO2  Shibusawa 

was  deeply  impressed  with  the  importance  of  the 
proceedings,  but  diplomacy  was  not  his  business, 
nor  was  it  in  keeping  with  his  ideas  of  national  honour, 
much  less  official  dignity  or  personal  heroism.  To 
him  Ikamon's  subtle  harangue  had  been  quite  as  much 
a  bore  as  was  the  commodore's  demand  a  bold  and 
hollow  bluff.  Had  he  had  his  way  he  would  have 
invited  the  meddlesome  foreigner  to  come  ashore  and 
inspect  the  samurai  before  undertaking  to  establish 
in  their  midst  any  sort  of  commercial  theft.  But 
Tetsutaisho's  voice  as  yet  had  no  weight  in  the 
chamber,  and  he  knew  it  and  was  satisfied.  With- 
drawing presently,  he  returned  homeward  and  pre- 
pared himself  for  a  more  pleasing  diversion. 

Toward  evening  the  weather  grew  warm  and 
inviting,  and  Tetsutaisho  strolled  over  to  Takara's 
house  early,  where  they  loitered  on  the  veranda  and 
supped  long  at  their  tea.  There  was  that  stillness 
in  the  air  that  begets  confidence,  and  the  moon  rose 
clear  and  bright.  He  sat  smoking  and  dreaming, 
and  she  chatted  away  or  toyed  with  the  tiny  cup  in 
front.  He  had  finished  his  pipe,  then  he  said: 

"Shall  we  stroll  over  to  the  arbour  vine,  Takara? 
The  woods  are  inviting,  and  there  we  can  get  a  glimpse 
of  the  'Yankee'  as  he  hurls  our  foam  at  his  back. 
Come,  my  lady,  shall  I  assist  you  to  rise? " 

Takara  drooped  her  eyes  and  blushed,  and  he  did 
not  resist  the  temptation,  but  sat  at  her  side  and 
took  her  willing  hand  in  his.  She  leaned  forward, 
and  looking  into  his  upturned  face  revealed  the 
answer.  Nothing  could  stay  or  mar  that  pleasure. 
They  sat  there  enrapt  with  the  joy  of  all  time:  only 
the  stars  gave  witness,  and  when  they  had  awakened 
there  was  no  need  for  a  scene  in  the  moonlight,  for 


Danger  in  Shibusawa's  Absence    103 

a  crossing  of  the  ways,  for  a  going  into  the  halo  of 
life;  they  had  sooner  found  their  affinity,  and  all  the 
glories  of  heaven  and  earth  could  not  transport  them 
more,  and  when  they  went  out  into  the  dawn  it  was 
to  revel  in  thoughts  sweeter  than  dreamland  had 
ever  revealed.  A  beautiful  sunburst  beamed  from 
her  heart,  and  her  eyes  shone  with  a  love  that  wel- 
comes the  true;  that  fades  and  shuns  at  the  false. 
The  fleet  had  long  passed  out,  the  moon  had  risen 
high,  and  God  had  again  proven  the  wisdom  of  all 
things  when  those  two  returned  and  parted  for  the 
night. 

As  Tetsutaisho  hastened  along  the  gravelled  path- 
way toward  his  home  his  step  was  less  firm  and  his 
purpose  more  uncertain  than  when  he  came.  His 
course  had  led  him  over  the  firmer  hold  and  into  the 
boundless  sea  of  uncertainty.  What  was  once  a 
passion  was  now  fast  becoming  a  desire,  and  he  knew 
no  such  thought  as  halt.  Whither  he  did  not  know, 
perhaps  he  did  not  care,  for  to  him  the  world  was  but 
a  reality:  its  pleasures  were  its  eternity.  And  not 
until  he  approached  his  own  house  did  he  think  of 
Nehachibana,  and  of  how  she  had  made  his  home 
worth  the  while;  of  her  waiting  and  watching  and 
praying  for  his  return;  of  the  boundless  joy  that 
filled  her  heart  at  the  first  sound  of  his  footsteps,  and 
then  he  said  to  himself: 

"These  wise  old  fathers  of  my  country  have  fitted 
well  the  act  and  made  certain  their  provision  for  such 
as  she  and  I.  The  law  makes- marriage  tolerable  and 
it  makes  love  enjoyable.  A  thousand  dry  draughts 
to  you!  May  the  laws  live  long,  and  love  die  never! 
O  Jurokin ;  O  Benten ;  hear  me ! " 


CHAPTER   XIV 

THE    "NO"    DANCE 

AFTER  the  departure  of  Perry  and  his  fleet 
there  was  nothing  of  importance  from  the  out- 
side world  to  disturb  the  quaint  little  kingdom,  so 
snugly  hemmed  in  by  the  eastern  waters.  There 
was  no  immediate  necessity  for  any  material  change 
at  the  newly  made  treaty  ports,  and  in  consequence 
the  administration  made  known  only  so  much  of 
the  terms  of  the  compromise  as  it  was  thought  would 
satisfy  the  opposition.  The  people  were  left  in  doubt 
as  to  its  full  purport,  and  thus  they  soon  became 
reconciled  to  a  belief  that  after  all  the  danger  might 
not  be  so  great  as  at  first  supposed. 

After  the  storm  had  passed  there  came  a  lull  which 
might  have  lasted  indefinitely  had  Ikamon  been  more 
sagacious  in  the  treatment  of  local  affairs.  His  sway 
at  home  was  now  supreme,  and  his  rule  so  effective 
that  he  mistook  complaisance  for  submission,  and 
as  a  result  overlooked  the  slow  but  positive  disaffec- 
tion in  the  south. 

When  the  readjustment  took  place  it  was  thought 
that  Saigo's  reward  and  position  would  tend  to  allay 
the  discontent  in  that  locality,  and  that  an  economic 
policy  would  again  restore  the  shogun  to  the  full 
confidence  of  all  sections  of  the  country.  This  was 
true  in  a  measure,  but  the  patriots  who  worshipped  at 
the  mikado's  seat  could  not  be  effectively  won  over 
by  personal  favours  bestowed  upon  their  leaders. 

1 04 


The  "No"   Dance  105 

They  were  full  of  the  soul  of  ancient  times,  and 
nothing  short  of  a  complete  restoration  of  conditions 
could  satisfy  their  rising  spirits. 

However,  the  shock  of  recent  events  had  so  checked 
their  growth  as  to  give  Ikamon  a  chance  to  central- 
ise his  force  and  place  Tetsutaisho  at  the  head  of  a 
consolidated  army.  In  all  these  doings  the  young 
general  took  no  active  part  other  than  to  hold  him- 
self in  readiness  to  strike  when  called  upon,  but  in 
the  meantime  gave  himself  up  wholly  to  the  delights 
of  a  love  that  was  inevitable,  if  without  the  pale. 
Shibusawa  continued  to  remain  absent,  and  to  all 
but  his  father  had  become  as  if  forgotten,  while 
Takara  was  now  the  favourite  of  the  lord  daimyo, 
and  the  castle  offered  her  every  privilege  as  she 
liked.  Tetsutaisho  was  her  slave,  and  she  toyed  with 
him  as  with  a  child,  coming  regularly  and  remaining 
at  her  will. 

"Let  us  go  down  by  the  summer  garden,"  said  she, 
on  a  sultry  afternoon  in  July,  as  they  finished  their 
tea  on  the  veranda.  "There  by  the  pond  where  the 
snow-white  cranes  stalk  silently  about  or  lazily  tuck 
their  sacred  heads;  under  the  rose-covered  retreat 
that  juts  out  over  the  iris-flagged  waters.  How  I 
do  love  to  sit  there  and  be  your  idle-thought!  " 

"I  am  glad  you  proposed  it.  I  will  call  the  car- 
riers and  we  will  take  the  norimonos  (chairs)  down. 
It  is  too  hot  to  walk  this  day,"  answered  he,  glad  of 
the  chance. 

Having  in  a  little  while  arrived  at  the  chosen  retreat 
they  lounged  on  the  matted  floor  amidst  the  fragrance 
of  the  lotus  and  in  view  of  the  iris-studded  waters 
in  front.  A  cool  breeze  gently  floated  in,  and  now  and 
then  a  golden  crane  crossed  in  the  wake  of  his  abode. 


106  Shibusawa 

"I  wish  I  were  a  bird,"  said  Takara,  dreamily. 

"Then  I  should  be  your  mate,"  answered  Tetsu- 
taisho,  quickly. 

"And  this  our  nest,"  whispered  she. 

"Our  paradise,"  said  he. 

"And  if  it  were,"  continued  Takara,  "we  would 
live  here  for  ever,  and  there  would  be  no  parting  and 
no  improprieties.  I  do  hate  a  world  where  one  must 
suffer  to  be  happy!  Kamie  has  given  us  all  these 
beautiful  things  and  has  made  us  to  love,  and  naughty 
man  has  tried  to  upset  it  all  and  make  us  creatures 
of  his  convenience.  I,  for  one,  propose  to  consult 
more  my  own  pleasure." 

"Quite  right  you  are,  Takara;  conventionality  is  a 
thing  I  do  not  like  so  very  well  myself.  Yet  we  ought 
not  to  complain,  for  there  is  really  nothing  to  prevent 
us  from  making  this  our  heaven.  Who  could  ask 
for  a  more  lovely  spot!  And  I  assure  you  there  is 
neither  man  nor  law  to  stand  between  us." 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"It  is  true.   I  know  it." 

"Then  I  am  content,  for  I  have  but  a  single 
thought." 

"Just  as  the  beautiful  lotus  which  you  see  standing 
here  and  there  and  all  about.  It  is  emblematic  of 
purity,  which  springs  from  single-mindedness ;  and 
of  virtue,  because  of  its  usefulness.  You  are  just 
like  they,  and  I  love  them  and  I  am  going  to  love 
you." 

"And  you  always  will?" 

"So  long  as  Jurokin  be  a  god." 

After  a  while  they  had  said  their  say  and,  leaning 
back  on  the  rustic  moulding,  contented  themselves 
with  looking  out  at  the  shadows  falling  across  the 


The  "No"   Dance  107 

mirrored  lake  from  the  tall  cypress  standing  on  the 
bank.  Presently  Takara  broke  the  silence  by  saying: 

"Let  us  call  the  geishas;  the  water  is  so  still  and 
the  day  suggestive.  What  do  you  say,  Tetsutaisho  ? " 

"A  happy  thought.     And  what  shall  it  be ? " 

"I  have  but  one  choice." 

"The  ancient  dance?" 

"Yes;  'No.'" 

Tetsutaisho  called  and  despatched  a  servant  to 
the  shibai  (house  of  entertainment)  for  Michizane, 
the  "lover  of  the  plum"  and  poet  to  Takara,  who 
came  forthwith  and  bowed,  and  then  stood  by,  wait- 
ing to  be  directed.  Tetsutaisho  first  spoke,  saying: 

"Michizane,  your  lady  would  have  you  provide 
some  entertainment  before  the  sun  is  set.  She  her- 
self will  suggest  the  kind." 

"Yes,  Michizane,"  said  she.  "Let  it  be  'no,'  the 
dance  of  our  fathers;  then,  if  you  like,  a  poem." 

Michizane  bowed  and  departed,  though  not  with 
a  happy  expression.  Since  her  early  childhood  this 
old  man  had  faithfully  provided  Takara  with  inno- 
cent amusement,  which  service,  since  his  lady's 
marriage  to  Shibusawa,  consisted  chiefly  in  reading 
to  her  poems  of  his  own  creation.  She  had  brought 
him  along  from  Kyoto  as  a  necessary  part  of  her 
household  effects,  all  of  which  belonged  to  an  age 
or  a  school  not  of  the  shogun's.  He  was  now  a 
veteran  of  sixty  years,  and  little  calculated  to  com- 
pose in  a  vein  suited  to  his  fair  lady's  taste,  except 
it  be  not  when  Tetsutaisho  was  so  near  by. 

Michizane  was  not  long,  however,  in  arranging  in 
front  of  the  "lovers'  nest  "  the  covered  float,  upon 
which  there  balanced  a  dozen  and  six  —  one  for  each 
half  decade  from  birth  to  ninety  —  of  the  fairest  and 


io8  Shibusawa 

loveliest  of  the  geishas.  These  were  arranged  at 
the  rear  of  the  platform  in  the  form  of  a  crescent, 
beginning  at  the  left  with  the  youngest  and  ending 
at  the  right  with  the  oldest  —  symbolic  of  the  rising 
and  the  setting  of  the  sun.  All  were  clad  in  rich 
garments,  fashioned  according  to  their  ages,  and 
their  hair  was  arranged  in  representation  of  the 
several  stages  of  womanhood.  They  stood  with 
bowed  head  and  extended  foot,  ready  to  reel  and 
swing  at  the  first  sound  of  the  music. 

At  the  centre  of  the  crescent  there  sat  facing  the 
dancers  three  others  of  a  different  type  and  a  more 
gaudy  dr-ess,  with  bright  coloured  ornaments  in  their 
hair  and  much  tinsel  about  their  waists.  These  were 
the  koto  players,  who  held  their  instruments  in  front 
waiting  the  signal  for  them  to  begin  the  dance. 

In  front  of  these,  facing  the  dancers,  sat  Michizane, 
cross-toed  and  erect,  with  his  withered  hands  folded 
in  front  of  him.  He  wore  a  plain  grey  kimono,  which 
folded  under  a  long  girdle,  looped  up  at  the  side,  and 
his  long  white  hair  fluffed  out  and  hung  far  down 
over  his  stooped  shoulders. 

Everything  was  now  silent,  not  even  a  leaf  stirring. 
The  sun  blazed  in  the  west,  and  the  deep  shadows 
told  of  its  setting.  The  dancers  grew  animated,  the 
players  composed,  and  Michizane  reverent,  and  there 
arose  in  the  listeners  mingled  feelings  of  sorrow  and 
delight.  Their  hearts  beat,  and  the  grey  poet  bowed 
low,  and  the  dance  began.  The  soft  strains  of  music 
inspired  them,  and  the  lesson  unfolded  before  them 
repeated  the  story  of  life  for  ever  and  evermore.  One 
by  one  the  maidens  laid  bare  their  part  in  the  great 
drama  that  unfolds  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave,  and 
no  man  there  looked  without  a  deeper  sense  of  re- 


The  "No"  Dance  109 

sponsibility  and  a  happier  inspiration  for  the  day. 
No  vulgar  thought  disturbed  them,  for  theirs  was  a 
purer  and  a  nobler  reality.  Base  desires  arose  from 
another  source;  the  choosing,  the  sin.  As  the  last 
dancer  disrobed  the  strains  lowered,  and  when  the 
final  shred  was  doffed  the  music  ceased  and  the  sun 
set:  the  drama  was  over  and  the  world  in  darkness. 
There  was  no  need  for  covering,  no  desire  to  live. 

Thus  those  two  passed  the  time,  when  it  was 
agreeable  for  them  to  meet.  At  Koyo-odori  (maple 
dance  for  girls)  Takara  gave  a  party  on  the  lawn,  to 
which  all  of  her  younger  girl  friends  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood were  invited.  Tetsutaisho  was  there  in 
his  uniform,  with  full  regalia,  and  of  course  was  the 
idol  of  the  fair  young  maidens,  who  looked  upon  him 
as  being  little  less  than  a  god.  In  mid-winter  the 
Mukojima  (snow-seeing  trip)  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity to  get  into  the  country,  where  they  lingered 
and  enjoyed  themselves  at  will.  The  mountain 
Tsukuba,  just  back  of  Tokyo,  was  their  favourite 
place  for  this  event,  whither  the  white-enrobed  earth 
stretched  away  to  the  ocean  in  front.  Whether 
winter  or  summer  they  were  always  happy  when 
together  and  lonely  when  not. 

Finally  on  a  bright  morning  in  March  —  it  was 
March  third,  the  day  of  Hinanosaku,  festival  for 
young  girls  —  the  sun  rose  and  cast  its  red  among 
the  tall  trees  and  the  furrowed  housetops  of  the 
castle  ground.  Maido  struck  his  pipe  against  the 
brazier  and  then  arose  and  slowly  left  his  room. 
Presently  he  climbed  the  short  lacquered  stairs  and 
entered  a  deserted  room  with  panelled  sash  through 
which  the  sunlight  streamed  and  warmed  the  cheer- 
less place. 


no 


Shibusawa 


The  squared  ceiling  revealed  a  rich  setting  of  wood 
and  grain,  and  the  floor  was  spread  over  with  soft, 
clean  matting.  A  large  vase  of  beautiful  blue,  in 
which  grew  a  dwarfed  orange,  fragrant  with  bloom, 
stood  upon  a  raised  recess  in  the  wall.  Over  this 
hung  a  long  kakemono,11  done  by  an  old  master,  and 
in  a  corner  stood  a  screen  of  rare  embroidery.  There 
was  nothing  more,  and  the  room  seemed  bare  and 
desolate.  Takara  was  gone.  The  daimyo's  heart 
throbbed  heavily,  and  he  knelt  behind  the  screen, 
and  with  his  face  turned  away  begged  Kimon  to  give 
him  freedom. 

As  he  sat  there  an  aged  man,  bent  and  sorrow- 
ful, stole  in  and  across  the  room  to  the  sacred  recess 
in  the  wall,  where  he  bowed,  and  said: 

"Alas!     It  is  well!" 


CHAPTER   XV 

HOME    ABANDONED 

TAKARA  did  not  change,  nor  chafe,  nor  exalt 
under  the  new  conditions;  she  only  loved 
Tetsutaisho,  and  being  installed  in  his  house  she  felt 
secure  in  what  before  hardly  seemed  a  reality.  His 
heart  was  hers,  she  reasoned,  and  the  law  made  his 
domicile  her  privilege.  And  had  he  not  convinced 
her?  And  might  not  Nehachibana  be  proud  of  her 
husband's  choice?  Better  such  a  concubine  than 
an  absent  husband,  she  thought;  and,  after  all,  need 
she  rob  her  sister-in-law  of  what  seemed  impossible? 

The  lovers  were  happy,  and  Nehachibana,  at  first 
flushed  and  nervous,  had  now  grown  cold  and  calm. 
Her  own  chamber  was  comfortable,  even  luxurious, 
yet  for  hours  she  would  lay  her  ear  close  to  the  frail 
partition,  and  a  monster  bade  the  fancies  that  leaped 
to  her  brain.  In  her  bath  no  abomination  had 
entered.  No  mugwort  or  sweet  flag  had  desecrated 
there.  Yet  the  stork  was  as  silent  as  the  tombs  of 
Nodo,  and  her  hopes  had  changed  to  fear,  her  posi- 
tion to  that  of  a  slave.  Once  she  crouched  low  and 
listened;  then  she  clutched  at  emptiness  and  her 
face  whitened,  and  she  crawled  back  to  her  own 
miserable  mat  and  there  planned  and  determined. 
Presently  she  slept,  and  dreamed  of  her  master's 
expected  son,  which  to  her  had  been  a  blessing. 

Nor  was  she  alone  in  her  suspicions,  for  what  she 
had  heard  and  dreamed  the  silvered  poet  visioned 


H2  Shibusawa 

and  divined.  The  spirit  had  touched  him,  too,  and 
he  sorrowed  when  he  waked.  Then  as  if  moved  by 
an  uncontrollable  impulse  he  stole  to  Takara's  aban- 
doned home  and  there  mused  at  the  unhallowed  life 
of  his  downf alien  mistress,  his  idolised  queen.  Maido, 
too,  had  gone  there  to  reflect,  and  he  made  no  move 
to  disturb  the  other,  but  left  him  to  bide  the  impulse 
of  his  nature,  commune  with  the  god  of  his  disturbed 
conscience.  Michizane  was  the  product  of  a  nobler 
life,  the  devotee  of  a  gentler  age,  and  a  worshipper 
at  the  tomb  of  an  ancestry  far  removed  from  the 
wicked  intrigues  of  a  feudal  aristocracy.  His  was 
of  the  mikado's  way,  the  effect  of  a  divine  inspira- 
tion. To  transgress  from  its  sacred  guidance  was 
to  fall  from  the  pale  of  life  and  to  forfeit  every  privi- 
lege of  redemption. 

Takara,  too,  was  born  and  bred  of  this  master 
influence,  and  notwithstanding  her  impulsive  nature 
possessed  all  the  charm  and  dignity  of  a  royal  per- 
sonage, together  with  that  broader  intellect  which 
comes  of  high  endeavour,  and  that  better  grace  which 
is  the  product  of  refined  associations.  She  was  proud 
though  not  haughty,  and  in  her  soul  there  lived  a 
purpose. 

Unlike  her,  Nehachibana  was  the  product  of  a 
proud  nobility.  Shut  up  within  the  castle  gates, 
she  had  always  been  idolised  and  petted.  She  had 
known  of  no  want  that  was  not  supplied,  and  had 
expressed  not  a  wish  that  was  not  gratified;  every 
luxury  had  been  showered  upon  her.  Her  sense  of 
the  good  was  the  one  bright  hope  in  her  life,  for  she 
knew  not  the  force  of  intellect,  nor  had  she  been 
taught  to  reason.  When  she  went  forth  into  the 
world  she  was  helpless  in  the  race,  and  when  she 


Home  Abandoned  113 

tasted  of  the  bitter  it  was  like  the  gall  of  quassia, 
and  she  fell  at  the  shrine  of  Amida. 

Of  a  sweet  disposition,  Nehachibana  had  always 
looked  upon  the  brighter  side  of  life;  therefore  it 
was  the  more  difficult  for  her  to  reconcile  herself 
to  the  thought  that  hers  was  not  a  just  treatment. 
She  sometimes  felt  that  it  was  her  own  shortcomings 
that  had  driven  her  husband  away  from  her,  and  then 
she  would  set  about  with  renewed  effort  to  see  that 
his  house  was  made  agreeable  to  his  coming,  and  her 
love  worthy  of  his  taking.  Once  she  said  to  herself: 

"I  shall  please  him.  He  is  mine  and  I  must  win. 
No  other  loves  him  as  I  do;  none  but  me  can  have 
him.  He  is  mine  unto  death.  I  shall  —  but  oh! 
that  other  one!  And  the  law,  and  I  —  O  Kami,  my 
heart,  my  heart,  it  is  breaking!  Is  there  no  help? 
Is  there  no  help  for  —  me?  But  she,  she  has  his 
love!  It  is  not  he,  it  is  his  weakness  that  she  loves! 
And  I,  I  am  helpless! — Helpless?  No!  Did  I  not 
hear  Kiyokime,  the  goddess  of  hate?  And  did  she 
not  say  revenge?  And  I  a  woman?  Then  to  the 
work,  and  let  it  be  as  swift  as  the  necessities  may 
allow.  I  will  have  revenge!" 

However,  it  was  less  easy  for  Nehachibana  to  exe- 
cute than  to  resolve.  She  was  now  entirely  cut  off 
from  any  association  whatever  with  her  rival,  and 
found  it  difficult  even  to  satisfy  her  curiosity.  This 
unpleasant  situation  had  been  brought  about  more 
by  the  foolishness  of  her  mother-in-law  than  by  her 
own  dulness,  yet  it  affected  her  none  the  less  for  that. 
Heretofore  it  had  been  irksome  to  do  service  for  her 
rival,  which  both  situation  and  custom  compelled, 
but  now  that  she  had  resolved  it  would  have  been  a 
pleasure.  Still,  as  difficulties  arose  her  determina- 


H4  Shibusawa 

tion  increased,  and  she  not  only  concluded  to  bide 
her  time  but  to  make  certain  her  victory. 

When  Takara  came  into  their  home  Tetsutaisho's 
mother  was  at  first  so  overwhelmed  with  the  honour 
and  so  proud  of  herself  that  she  became  not  only 
tyrannical  to  her  former  household  but  somewhat 
insufferable  to  the  newcomer.  The  new  acquisition 
had  insisted  upon  bringing  all  of  her  own  servants, 
and  had  little  need  and  less  desire  for  the  assistance 
of  her  gallant's  mother  or  other  relations:  that  was 
something  she  had  not  bargained  for,  and  she  was 
of  a  mind  not  to  tolerate  meddlesome  interference. 
Consequently,  Takara  had  not  been  there  many 
months  before  she  had  appropriated  to  her  own 
exclusive  use  that  portion  of  the  premises  which 
suited  her  most. 

Tetsutaisho  personally  concerned  himself  in  these 
sometimes  threatening  matters  no  further  than  to 
give  his  consent  to  anything  that  anybody  might 
propose;  and  as  his  mother  took  the  ground  that 
it  was  her  right,  and  as  Nehachibana  had  nothing 
to  ask,  the  proposals  were  always  on  the  side  of 
Takara  and  the  victory  in  her  favour.  While  Tet- 
sutaisho did  not  mean  to  be  irreverent  he  did  love 
a  plucky  battle  and  was  inclined  to  the  belief  that  to 
the  winner  belongs  the  spoils.  That,  probably  as 
much  as  a  careless  indifference,  prompted  him  to  give 
the  ladies  of  the  house  a  free  hand  in  its  management, 
and  always  to  absent  himself  at  the  first  sign  of  a 
disturbance. 

It  was,  possibly,  at  one  of  these  bothersome  times 
that  Tetsutaisho  stole  out  and  unconsciously  found 
his  way  to  the  council  chamber.  He  had  gone  away 
in  this  manner  before,  but  seldom  got  so  far  as  the 


Home  Abandoned  115 

hall  of  state.  Sometimes  he  loafed  at  headquarters 
or  called  upon  Maido.  More  often  he  spent  the 
hour  with  Ikamon,  who  was  now  deeply  engrossed 
with  adjusting  local  affairs  so  as  to  meet  the  require- 
ments of  foreign  interference,  but  on  this  occasion 
a  higher  purpose  seemed  to  control  him,  and  for  the 
first  time  he  voiced  his  sentiment  in  unmistakable 
terms. 

Unconsciously,  perhaps,  but  none  the  less  certain, 
the  hated  stranger  had  peeped  into  the  treasure  box, 
and  so  infused  a  commercial  and  diplomatic  awaken- 
ing as  to  lay  the  foundation  for  nothing  less  than 
the  rehabilitation  of  a  long  lost  empire.  It  was  the 
dawn  of  a  new  era,  and  no  one  more  than  Ikamon 
interpreted  correctly  the  scope  and  consequence  of 
so  sudden  a  contact  with  Christian  civilization.  As 
yet  the  shogunate  had  not  been  openly  accused  of 
collusion  with  the  foreigners ;  still  whisperings  to  that 
effect  had  been  heard,  as  coming  from  Kyoto ;  and 
the  prime  minister,  no  more  to  be  outdone  at  home 
than  to  be  defeated  from  abroad,  began  to  encourage 
an  increase  in  the  army  and  to  advise  Tetsutaisho 
accordingly. 

Ikamon  was,  also,  not  slow  to  grasp  at  the  impor- 
tance of  improved  methods  and  had  strongly  urged 
Tetsutaisho  to  bestir  himself  in  adopting  and  apply- 
ing more  effective  instruments,  but  the  latter  was 
rather  inclined  to  the  belief  that  there  was  not  so 
much  to  be  gained  by  radical  changes:  that  the  dis- 
organisation attendant  upon  the  introduction  of 
new  measures  more  than  offset  the  benefits  derived. 
He  reasoned  that  the  samurai  were  already  trained 
and  fully  equipped.  He  knew  they  were  brave  to 
a  man,  and  loyal. 


1 1 6  Shibusawa 

"What  more,"  said  he,  "would  you  have?  Would 
you  see  cowardice  supplant  courage,  and  the  black 
powder  of  a  foe  substituted  for  the  ringing  steel  of 
our  forefathers?  These  men  are  invincible,  and 
Tetsutaisho  is  a  general.  Give  me  the  opportunity, 
the  occasion,  and  I  will  convince  you." 

As  he  spoke  his  voice  rang  with  the  pride  of  ages, 
and  the  council  halls  echoed  and  re-echoed  with 
applause.  Even  Ikamon  was  for  the  moment  swept 
away  with  enthusiasm,  as  the  vigorous  man  swung 
his  great  arms  and  shouted  the  glory  of  the  nation's 
defenders.  It  was  not  so  much  a  want  of  under- 
standing that  made  Tetsutaisho  slow  to  feel  the  neces- 
sity of  change,  but  it  was  more  the  red  blood  coursing 
through  his  veins  which  gave  him  an  unbounded 
faith  in  the  loyal,  faithful,  worshipping  army  at  his 
command.  He  believed  in  their  superiority  and  felt 
them  worthy  of  their  country's  confidence,  and  as 
he  retired  from  the  chamber  and  walked  out  into 
the  park  his  step  livened  with  pride  and  his  whole 
being  quickened  with  a  rising  confidence  in  himself 
and  a  growing  contentment  with  the  world.  He 
thought  of  his  home  and  of  the  love  that  Takara  had 
lain  at  his  feet;  of  the  faithful,  patient  consideration 
of  Nehachibana,  his  lawful  wife  and  worthy  help- 
meet ;  of  his  mother,  and  how  she  fretted  and  worried 
and  fussed  as  opportunities  came  and  her  station 
advanced;  then  suddenly  he  came  upon  Kinsan  and 
all  this  vanished  from  his  memory  as  if  a  thing  of 
yesterday. 

She  was  with  her  father,  who  stood  off  some  dis- 
tance turning  a  tiny  stream  of  water  into  the  garden, 
which  showed  the  ravages  of  a  long  dry  spell.  It  was 
Choyo,  the  ninth  day  of  the  ninth  month,  and  there 


Home  Abandoned  117 

had  been  no  rain  for  more  than  a  moon  past.  Kinsan 
sat  in  the  shade  of  a  spreading  oak,  at  one  corner  of 
the  garden  near  where  the  roadway  passed,  and 
grouped  about  her  vrere  a  number  of  children  whose 
wide  eyes  sparkled  with  interest  as  she  repeated  to 
them  a  poem  well  suited  to  the  occasion. 

It  was  a  favourite  selection  from  Onokomachi,  the 
blind  poetess,  who  ever  prayed  for  rain.  The  words 
were  familiar  to  Tetsutaisho  and  he,  too,  stopped  at 
the  border  and  listened.  Kinsan 's  voice  rang  tender 
and  sweet,  though  there  seemed  a  pathos  which 
touched  him  and  caused  a  deeper  interest.  Had  he 
neglected  her?  Was  she  now  pleading  for  that  which 
he  had  so  long  sought?  His  memory  went  out  to 
her,  and  he  determined  again  to  try. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

A    GREAT    SORROW 

SOON  Kinsan's  father  was  attracted  by  the  new 
melody  of  her  voice,  and  he,  too,  came  and  stood 
near  and  listened.  No  word  was  said  until  after  the 
song  had  been  finished.  Then  Fujimoto  came  for- 
ward and  bowed  to  Tetsutaisho.  This  was  the  first 
warning  Kinsan  had  of  the  unusual  audience  her 
singing  had  attracted,  and  she  quickly  arose  and 
bowed  and  made  excuses  for  her  inattention. 

"I  would  rather  you  sat  there  and  sang  than  to 
have  arisen  and  courtesied  a  thousand  times,"  said 
Tetsutaisho,  as  he  left  the  roadside  and  made  his 
way  among  the  lilacs  to  where  she  was  standing. 
"One  does  not  often  have  the  opportunity,  though 
the  wish  be  constant,  and  the  privilege  of  being  one 
of  such  an  audience!"  he  continued,  as  he  leaned 
over  and  caressed  first  one  and  then  another  of  the 
little  children  as  they  came  huddling  up.  "Were 
it  not  that  you  deserve  such  happiness,  Fujimoto,  I 
might  almost  envy  you  your  good  fortune  in  being 
placed  here  amidst  such  loveliness.  The  trees,  the 
birds,  the  flowers,  the  children  —  and,  allow  me, 
the  daughter  —  among  whom  you  dwell,  must  cer- 
tainly inspire  a  rare  happiness." 

The  children  had  by  this  time  scampered  in  all 
directions,  and  the  three  elders  were  left  to  speak 
or  go  as  they  liked. 

"Yes,  honourable  sir,"  said  Fujimoto,  touched 
118 


A  Great  Sorrow  119 

not  a  little,  "these  are  truly  things  not  to  be  de- 
spised. The  daughter  is  my  comfort:  all  are  my  joy, 
and  after  all,  my  lot  may  not  be  a  despicable  one. 
Had  I  always  the  favour  of  Sumi,  god  of  water,  my 
task  might  be  lighter.  Still  I  am  content,  and  happy 
so  long  as  my  Kinsan  is  spared  to  me." 

Nothing  further  was  said  about  Kinsan;  the  one 
and  only  object  of  interest  which  the  nobleman 
could  have  or  cared  to  have  in  the  humble  gardener's 
affairs.  They  walked  along  at  Tetsutaisho's  sugges- 
tion toward  the  cottage,  which  stood  some  little 
distance  farther  on.  When  the  big  officer  entered 
the  palace  enclosure  he  had  no  intention  of  making 
the  gardener's  family  a  call.  In  fact,  he  had  of  late 
almost  dismissed  them  from  his  mind ;  but  the  moment 
he  heard  Kinsan's  voice  the  spark  within  again  came 
to  life,  and  when  he  drew  near  and  saw  how  modestly 
she  sat  and  how  neatly  she  was  gowned  and  how  her 
eyes  sparkled  with  life  and  how  the  blood  rose  to 
her  cheeks,  his  heart  flamed  more  fiercely  than  before. 
Tetsutaisho  pondered,  then  said  to  himself: 

"It  is  only  the  father  who  stands  in  my  way.  If 
I  could  but  get  his  confidence,  I  might  then  win  her 
love.  But  why  ask  anybody's  consent?  Force  will 
get  me  the  one  thing,  and— well,  persistence  the 
other.  They  are  both  at  my  disposal  —  why  delay 
the  matter?" 

Kinsan  did  not  speak  as  they  walked,  but  fell 
into  a  deep  study.  Whether  it  came  to  her  intui- 
tively or  from  a  change  in  Tetsutaisho's  mood  she 
partially  understood  him,  and  as  they  approached 
the  house  and  she  thought  of  her  mother  a  feeling 
of  fear  took  hold  of  her  and  she  trembled  and  hesi- 
tated. She  knew  of  their  straitened  circum- 


I2O  Shibusawa 

stances  and  of  how  her  mother  had  repeatedly  chided 
her  father  for  not  having  taken  advantage  of  Tetsu- 
taisho's  former  liberal  offer.  The  ends  of  her  fingers 
tingled,  then  grew  cold,  and  the  perspiration  stood 
in  great  beads  on  her  forehead.  When  they  had 
arrived  at  the  house  and  her  mother  came  running 
out,  bowing  to  the  visitor,  Kinsan's  heart  sickened, 
and  she  no  longer  possessed  that  confidence  in  her 
father  which  had  hitherto  buoyed  her  under  each 
successive  trial. 

"  It  is  the  hand  of  fate,  and  I  am  its  certain  victim," 
was  the  thought  which  ran  through  her  mind  and 
would  not  go  away. 

When  the  rest  entered  the  house  she  politely  with- 
drew, unnoticed,  and  went  away,  far  into  the  woods, 
and  on  and  on  until  she  came  to  the  hidden  cave, 
where  every  rock  and  all  the  flowers  and  even  the 
stars  had  sung  again  and  again  of  her  great  love  and 
Shibusawa 's  faith.  She  did  not  return,  but  lingered 
and  stayed,  and  prayed  fresh  prayers;  and  then  she 
thought  she  saw  him  there  bending  over  her;  she 
heard  him  speak  and  looked  into  his  eyes,  and  felt 
again  the  power  of  his  love.  After  a  long  time  she 
went  away,  and  when  far  from  the  cave  and  all  about 
was  darkness  and  she  was  uncertain  of  her  way  a  chill 
came  over  her  and  she  thought  of  the  tempter's  bait 
and  her  mother's  weakness. 

"Would  to  God  that  I,  too,  had  found  a  way!" 
was  her  last  thought  as  she  nestled  upon  her  wooden 
pillow,  and  at  last  slept  a  broken,  restless  sleep. 

Late  that  evening  Tetsutaisho  left  the  cottage 
and  lightly  tripped  along  down  the  pathway  toward 
his  own  house.  As  he  went  his  steps  quickened, 
and  he  almost  ran  with  delight.  He  carried  in  his 


A  Great  Sorrow  121 

girdle  a  document  which  on  the  morrow  he  would 
safely  file  and  thus  insure  the  proper  keeping  of  its 
lawful  provisions.  Upon  his  arrival  he  hurriedly 
entered  the  house,  and  that  night  Takara  may  have 
had,  for  the  first  time,  misgivings  of  a  weaker  purpose 
on  Tetsutaisho's  part  than  she  herself  had  divined. 

However  that  may  have  been,  it  mattered  not  to 
Tetsutaisho,  for  on  the  following  day  his  own  carriers 
set  in  front  of  the  gardener's  cottage  a  beautiful 
lacquered  chair  into  which  there  stepped  a  weeping, 
sorrowing  child;  a  daughter  whose  only  price  was 
the  worth  of  her  virtue,  whose  only  hope  lay  in  the 
power  of  her  own  frail  hands. 

She  went,  and  with  her  the  rags  that  hung  upon 
her  back.  There  was  not  a  mother's  blessing,  and 
the  father  had  slunk  back  from  witnessing  the  fruit 
of  a  heartless  wife's  bargaining.  It  was  not  the  first. 
Others  had  likewise  served.  And  the  fathers  and 
mothers  had  for  ages  eagerly  and  unknowingly  par- 
taken of  the  wages. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE    CHILD 

UPON  Kinsan's  arrival  at  Tetsutaisho's  house 
she  was  treated  with  every  consideration  by 
her  master,  and  in  reality  though  not  in  fact  given 
equal  rank  with  the  mistress.  She  was  settled  in 
that  part  of  the  house  over  which  his  mother  was 
supposed  to  reign  and  his  lawful  wife,  Nehachibana, 
had  been  the  principal  personage,  and  while  not 
raised  to  the  place  of  a  concubine  she  was  given  all 
the  privileges  of  one.  Her  position  was  supposed 
to  be  that  of  a  servant,  yet  in  turn  she  was  given 
servants  and  no  duties  were,  by  Tetsutaisho,  exacted 
of  her.  It  was  not  because  he  did  not  intend  her  to 
be  his  full-fledged  concubine,  nor  because  he  had  any 
scruples  about  Nehachibana  that  he  did  not  give 
Kinsan  that  position;  but  simply  because  he  enter- 
tained grave  doubts  about  Takara's  pleasure  in  the 
matter  —  something  with  which  even  he  as  yet  hesi- 
tated to  trifle. 

He  had  gained  Takara's  love,  and  her  honest  love, 
upon  the  strength  of  an  affinity  —  a  thing  which,  so 
long  as  it  lasted,  brooked  no  rival.  He  had, 
though,  in  taking  her  into  his  house  assumed  respon- 
sibilities far  beyond  personal  ones;  and  recognising 
the  superiority  of  her  position  realised  that,  should 
he  incur  her  displeasure,  she  had  but  to  call  upon  a 
power  that  might  overthrow  and  discard  him  in 
spite  of  his  usefulness.  He  sought,  therefore,  to 

122 


The  Child  123 

deceive  Takara  as  to  his  real  purpose  in  bringing 
Kinsan  into  the  house,  and  to  let  her  discover  by 
slow  degrees  that,  without  a  proper  encouragement, 
even  affinity  may  wane  and  finally  cease  to  hold  the 
object  of  its  affection. 

Takara  still  loved  him  and  was  none  the  wiser; 
thus  he  continued  without  danger  his  complicated 
relations,  though  she  felt  a  growing  coldness  and  the 
oncoming  of  something,  she  knew  not  what.  She 
was  now  deeply  worried  and  much  given  to  thinking, 
for  there  was  approaching  also  a  critical  period;  but 
when  rumours  came  to  her  ears,  and  she  chided  him 
about  Kinsan,  he  answered: 

"Takara,  you  do  me  a  great  injustice.  I  am  not 
only  true,  as  you  see,  but  I  have  anticipated  the  neces- 
sity of  keeping  at  hand  one  upon  whose  shoulders 
may  be  placed  the  responsibilities  for  the  care  of  our 
child." 

"But  why  not  intrust  that  service  to  one  whom 
we  know  to  be  best  fitted?"  asked  Takara,  anxiously. 
"There  is  Nannoto,  whose  mother  carried  in  her  arms 
your  mother's  mother." 

"No,  Takara;  it  is  not  the  service  I  would  trouble 
myself  about.  My  lady  should  not  so  degrade  her- 
self." 

"  Why  degraded ?     You  told  me  not." 

"It  is  not  the  fashion." 

"But  if  it  is  my  choice?" 

"You  have  no  choice." 

"Would  you  take  from  a  mother  her  child?" 

"The  law  allows  it." 

"Then  the  law  is  unjust,  and  there  is  a  better  way." 

"Fashion  is  inexorable,  and  the  law  must  be 
upheld." 


1 24  Shibusawa 

"Whether  the  fashion  or  the  law,  it  is  wrong.  A 
mother's  breast  is  a  woman's  joy." 

"Obedience  is  a  woman's  highest  virtue." 

Takara  understood  fully  the  force  as  well  as  the 
law  of  her  chosen  lord's  argument,  though  she  was 
none  the  less  aware  of  her  own  recourse.  While  she 
felt  the  chagrin  of  defeat  she  realised  the  danger  of 
appeal;  therefore  she  concluded  to  bide  her  time  and 
make  the  best  use  of  her  opportunities.  Her  love 
for  him  was  not  dead,  but  there  was  awakening 
within  her  a  new  light,  a  better  purpose. 

Nehachibana,  though  better  informed,  had  been 
the  more  easily  deceived.  Not  that  she  in  the  least 
misunderstood  her  husband's  motive  in  foisting  upon 
her  another  and  a  still  more  unwelcome  rival,  but 
that  she  entirely  mistook  Kinsan's  position.  Neha- 
chibana loved  Tetsutaisho  —  just  why  she  had  never 
stopped  to  inquire.  If  it  was  because  she  was  his 
wife,  her  love  was  none  the  less  intense;  and  because 
she  was  in  love  with  him,  she  thought  every  other 
woman  must  be  — -  at  least  all  those  who  evinced  the 
slightest  interest,  whether  courted  or  courting.  And 
if  she  was  to  share  another  portion,  she  found  much 
consolation  if  not  happiness  in  the  thought  that 
Takara,  too,  must  lose  in  like  proportion.  It  was  a 
reiteration  of  the  old  adage  that  there  can  be  no  great 
loss  without  some  small  gain;  a  jealous  reward  and 
a  revengeful  satisfaction.  She  now  pitied  Takara 
and  hated  Kinsan  (in  virtue  of  a  community  of  feel- 
ing) —  the  one  because  of  her  position,  the  other  in 
consequence  of  hers. 

The  mother's  indifference  proved  to  be  as  great  a 
blessing  to  Kinsan  as  it  was  a  curse  to  Nehachibana. 
What  the  one  gained  by  being  let  alone  the  other  lost 


The  Child 


125 


in  virtue  of  being  served  likewise,  thus  results  struck 
a  happy  balance.  But  it  was  from  another  source 
that  fear  and  anxiety  came  to  both  alike,  to  Nehachi- 
bana  because  of  neglect  and  to  Kinsan  because  of 
danger. 

As  the  last  sight  of  the  latter's  childhood  home  had 
vanished  from  her  view  she  bent  down  under  the 
weight  of  her  grief,  but  when  she  had  arrived  at 
Tetsutaisho's  place  of  sin  and  had  been  brought  face 
to  face  with  his  mock  glances  she  fell  upon  her  knees, 
not  in  humble  supplication,  but  in  the  full  recogni- 
tion of  her  weakness.  It  was  then  that  she  prayed 
as  only  one  can  pray  who  values  life  less  than  honour ; 
and  when  the  fiendish  touch  came  she  did  not  yield, 
but  shrank  from  him  and  spoke  her  mind  in  a  voice 
that  is  beyond  the  power  of  words.  Sheer  courage 
lost  him  his  victim,  determination  saved  her. 

Stunned  by  the  force  of  her  great  purity,  he  did 
not  lessen  his  persistence,  but  delayed  from  time  to 
time  a  more  cowardly  intention;  finally  there  dawned 
within  him  the  impulse  of  a  purer  love,  which  gradu- 
ally overcame  his  weakness  and  made  it  possible  to 
find  a  better  way.  He  decided  now  to  hold  her  in 
reality  as  a  servant,  and  on  the  seventh  day  after 
the  birth  of  the  child,  himself  took  it,  and  carrying 
it  to  Kinsan,  placed  it  in  her  arms  and  told  her  that 
it  should  be  her  charge.  It  was  a  fine,  large  boy, 
the  eyes  and  mould  revealing  its  mother's  heritage, 
and  as  Tetsutaisho  gave  Kinsan  the  baby,  he  bade 
her  call  it  Sodachinojoi,  and  say  nothing  more.  Then 
he  said  to  her : 

"You  have  refused  me;  now  you  must  serve  mine. 
So  long  as  you  do  that,  and  do  it  well,  and  as  I  bid, 
you  shall  know  no  penalty,  though  it  is  a  grave  sin 


126  Shibusawa 

to  oppose  your  master's  will.  And  when  you  have 
done,  I  shall  trust  to  gratitude  for  what  you  have  so 
persistently  withheld.  Go  now,  and  beware  of  the 
inquisitive." 

"  My  heart  bids  me  do  my  part,"  said  she,  in  answer. 
"This  burden  is  even  more,  it  is  a  blessing.  I  pray 
for  strength  that  I  may  serve  well  and  please  much. 
The  reward  is  already  mine." 

"Then  you  would  mock  me,  heigh?  Bring  me  the 
child  —  no;  I  shall  send  you  both  to  the  dungeon," 
and  he  arose  and  stood  meditating. 

"I  pray  you,  sir,  send  me,  but  save  the  child.  It  is 
innocent,  and  it  has  a  mother.  I  am  unworthy,  yet 
I  will  pay  the  penalty.  Pray,  sir?" 

He  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  stood  regarding 
her;  he  may  have  marvelled  at  her  charity,  possibly 
he  was  touched  by  her  tenderness.  At  all  events  he 
moved  closer,  and  whispered : 

"Kinsan,  I  truly  love  you." 

She  did  not  hear  him.  Her  eyes  rested  on  the 
child  in  her  arms.  She  was  thinking  of  a  mother's 
sorrow,  possibly  a  child's  fate.  He  came  close  up 
and  would  have  touched  her  had  she  not  shrunk  from 
him  and  cried: 

"I  do  not  comprehend.  It  is  not  his  voice.  It 
is  not  true." 

"Aha,"  said  Tetsutaisho  to  himself,  as  he  leaned 
back  in  silence  "It  is  not  I  that  she  disdains,  but 
it  is  another  whom  she  loves." 

Then  after  a  while  he  addressed  her  saying: 

"Kinsan,  I  trust  you  will  pardon  my  incivility. 
I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude,  though  I  may  deserve 
your  censure.  And  now  that  it  is  done,  I  do  not 
want  you  to  feel  that  it  is  my  heart  that  is  wrong. 


The  Child 


127 


Do  me  the  honour  to  serve  this  child,  and  Tetsutaisho 
shall  see  to  it  that  the  reward  be  as  you  desire.  I 
leave  you  free  to  say  as  much,  if  it  is  your  pleasure." 

"The  honour  is  mine  to  serve.  The  pleasure, 
yours  to  grant.  And  is  there  any  higher?"  asked 
she,  confident  and  earnest. 

Tetsutaisho  soon  after  withdrew  and  left  Kinsan 
to  begin  her  new  duties  with  a  lighter  heart  and  a 
better  confidence.  She  felt  with  renewed  hope  that 
there  was  still  a  chance  for  the  right.  And  now  that 
her  hands  were  no  longer  idle,  she  must  drive  away 
despair  and  set  about  with  fresh  courage  to  make 
much  happiness  out  of  the  little  that  life  offered. 

She  soon  learned  to  love  the  child,  and  often  took 
it  from  the  nurse  and  held  it  in  her  own  arms.  At 
dusk  of  night  she  would  sit  for  hours,  singing  lullabies 
or  reciting  favourite  poems.  Sometimes  she  peered 
dreamily,  softly,  into  the  far  distance,  and  then  her 
voice  would  rise  to  the  sweet,  lonely  pitch  of  the 
nightingale  or  deepen  into  tenderest  pathos.  Once 
these  sad,  weird  strains  reached  Tetsutaisho 's  ears, 
and  they  touched  him  more  deeply,  strangely,  than 
when  he  first  heard  her  at  the  garden. 

"It  is  her  soul  speaking  its  wonderful  love,"  said 
he  to  himself,  as  he  lounged  and  listened  from  his 
own  mat  on  a  dark,  still  night,  "and  I  would  give  all 
that  is  in  this  world  were  that  love  for  me." 

Then  he  asked  Ikamon  to  come  to  his  house  and 
listen  in  the  cool  of  the  evening  to  her  songs  and  her 
poems.  No  mention  was  made  to  her  of  her  intended 
audience,  for  Tetsutaisho  had  learned  her  true  spirit 
and  was  now  beginning  to  respect  her.  He  would 
not  so  intrude  as  to  ask  her  to  sing;  her  heart  only 
alone  and  undisturbed  could  invoke  such  melody; 


128  Shibusawa 

yet  he  could  not  resist  inviting  his  friend  to  share 
the  pleasure  of  her  voice,  though  only  by  chance 
might  they  be  so  privileged.  Ikamon  came  and  he, 
too,  was  charmed. 

"It  is  the  grandest  voice  I  ever  heard,"  said  he, 
with  enthusiasm,  as  he  arose  and  thanked  his  host  for 
the  entertainment,  preparatory  to  taking  his  leave. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE    VOW    OF    VENGEANCE 

WHEN  Ikamon  had  gone  Tetsutaisho  retired, 
and  as  he  did  so  he  went  with  the  satisfaction 
of  having  discovered,  as  he  thought,  the  secret  of  his 
failure.  He  had  always  regarded  Kinsan  as  a  prize 
not  to  be  overlooked,  but  had  not  offered  to  divine 
her  real  charm.  His  repeated  defeat  had  not  been 
attributed  to  that ;  it  was  upon  baser  grounds  he  had 
excused  himself  and  accused  her.  Her  constancy, 
however,  had  awakened  in  him  a  better  sense  of  her 
nature,  and  he  now  began  to  feel  the  force  of  her 
virtue;  but  having  again  mistaken  her,  and  wrong- 
fully attributed  her  refusal  to  the  success  of  a  rival,  he 
became  mad  and  vowed  vengeance  as  well  as  victory. 

"I  will  hunt  him  down!"  said  he  to  himself,  as  he 
entered  his  den,  and  there  stayed  and  fretted,  in 
spite  of  Takara's  repeated  urgent  calls.  "It  is  not 
Kinsan,  but  her  lover  that  is  the  real  cause  of  my 
discomfiture.  Law  makes  right,  and  Tetsutaisho 
shall  vindicate  the  law." 

He  retired  late,  but  felt  himself  rewarded  by  the 
day's  ending.  At  first  he  had  really  intended  to  give 
Kinsan  only  the  care  of  the  child,  but  now  it  occurred 
to  him  to  make  it  her  own.  The  power  was  in  his 
hands;  why  not  use  it?  She  seemed  glad  of  the  care, 
and  it  would  give  her  an  occupation,  an  excuse  for 
being  in  his  house:  her  lover  would  divine  another 
reason. 

129 


13° 


Shibusawa 


Takara  ought  not  to  suffer  much  from  the  loss,  and 
should  profit  by  the  subterfuge.  Her  birth,  her  posi- 
tion, her  ambition,  all  demanded  a  better  protection, 
a  surer  disposition.  Why  not  benefit  her?  There 
was  not  a  soul  in  the  house  who  might  be  any  the 
wiser,  unless  it  were  Michizane,  the  poet,  and  banish- 
ment must  silence  him.  That  were  a  simple  matter 
and  Ikamon  would  attend  to  it  at  once.  His  own 
devotion  to  Takara  for  a  short  time  should  quell  any 
misgivings  and  allay  all  feelings  on  her  part,  while 
a  little  deception  would  start  everything  smoothly 
on  its  proper  course. 

"I  am  the  man!"  thought  he,  and  he  slumbered 
long  and  in  peace. 

The  next  morning  he  hurried  to  Takara,  and  when 
he  had  left  her  she  was  thankful  for  his  having  come, 
and  less  doubtful  about  his  sincerity.  Whether  real 
or  not,  she  realised  that  the  wiser  course  is  to  turn 
a  bad  bargain  to  good  use,  and  resigned  herself  to 
the  hope,  if  not  belief,  that  his  plans  were  for  the  best 
and  that  he  would  keep  his  promises. 

Before  leaving  the  house  for  the  day  Tetsutaisho 
ran  in  to  see  the  child  and  incidentally  make  some 
assurances  to  Kinsan.  She,  glad  of  the  opportunity, 
resigned  herself  to  her  task  without  questioning  too 
closely  the  purpose  or  thinking  much  about  the  out- 
come. Here  at  least  was  a  respite,  and  anything 
promising  to  stay  the  hand  of  fate  was  to  her  indeed 
welcome.  Therefore,  when  Nehachibana  came  in 
later  in  the  day  and  found  Kinsan  cooing  over  a 
little  red  baby,  all  flounced  with  silk,  a-kicking  and 
a-crying,  her  face  coloured  and  she  began  to  question 
its  kindly  mistress  with  something  of  curiosity,  if 
not  suspicion. 


The  Vow  of  Vengeance  131 

"Oh,  what  a  pretty  baby ! "  said  she,  as  she  crossed 
the  room  and  squatted  on  the  floor  in  front.  "And 
where  did  you  get  it?  It  is  so  cunning.  Is  it  yours? 
I  wish  I  had  a  baby  like  that  —  so  big  and  bright. 
But  then  it  wouldn't  have  eyes  like  those,  I  know. 
Would  it?  Let  me  see  your  eyes,  Kinsan  —  I  never 
could  tell  a  baby's  mother." 

"I  shall  not  let  you  have  this  one,  though  you 
don't  see  its  mother  in  its  eyes.  It's  a  good  baby, 
and  its  name  is  Sodachinojoi,  and  no  more." 

"Oh,  what  a  name!  and  how?  My  husband  said 
you  are  a  gardener's  daughter. " 

"And  even  so,  the  breeding  may  be  none  the  less. 
I  hope  you  will  like  the  baby,  and  I  will  do  all  I  can 
to  make  him  worthy  of  his  name  and  a  joy  to  us  all." 

"Why  do  you  not  say,  'My  baby'?  I  should,  if 
I  had  one." 

"Then  why  don't  you?"  said  Kinsan,  with  much 
surprise;  she  still  believing  that  only  Nehachibana 
could  be  the  mother  of  her  husband's  child,  as  her  own 
mother  had  been  of  all  her  father's  children. 

"Take  your  charge,  you  impudent  thing!  I  shall 
never  set  foot  upon  your  mat  again.  No,  never!" 
shrieked  Nehachibana,  as  she  pushed  the  child  toward 
Kinsan  and  flew  from  the  room. 

Kinsan  was  not  greatly  disturbed  by  Nehachibana 's 
demeanour,  though  the  thrust  was  painful  and  en- 
tirely uncalled  for  so  far  as  she  could  see  or  know. 
However,  she  was  by  this  time  accustomed  to  jeers, 
if  not  insults,  and  did  not  take  the  words  much  to 
heart,  and  only  thought  of  how  agreeable  it  would 
be  should  the  other  make  good  her  threat  and  stay 
away;  at  least  until  such  time  as  her  understanding 
prompted,  a.  kinder  treatment. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE    POET'S    BANISHMENT 

"VTEHACHIBANA  in  a  measure  made  good  her 
JL^I  threat,  and  as  Tetsutaisho's  mother  was  de- 
voted more  to  her  own  interests  than  to  doubtful 
infants,  and  had  always  regarded  Kinsan  with  sus- 
picion, she,  too,  took  particular  pains  to  keep  well 
out  of  the  way.  Tetsutaisho  soon  came  to  spending 
much  of  his  time  at  army  headquarters,  at  Ikamon's, 
or  at  the  council  chamber.  Takara's  sorrow  for  the 
loss  of  her  child,  which  she  had  not  been  permitted  to 
see  since  it  was  taken  away  from  her,  though  in  some 
degree  mitigated  —  satisfactorily  to  everybody  except 
Nehachibana — by  Tetsutaisho's  devotion,  during 
the  little  time  he  now  spent  at  home,  occupied  her 
attention. 

Thus  affairs  at  home  adjusted  themselves,  while 
at  state  the  lordly  general  busied  himself  principally 
with  getting  Ikamon  to  scheme  the  banishment  and 
deportation  of  the  pious,  harmless  old  poet  and  faith- 
ful servant,  Michizane.  The  prime  minister  was 
finally  induced  to  urge  so  severe  a  measure,  more 
through  his  efforts  to  hush  up  every  possible  chance 
for  a  clash  between  the  two  rival  factions  over 
Takara's  strange  and  painful  situation,  than  as  a 
personal  favour  to  his  friend.  The  venerable  sage 
had  been  her  only  confidant,  as  well  as  a  possible 
adviser  to  the  enemy;  therefore  Tetsutaisho  not  only 
desired  to  get  rid  of  him,  but  Ikamon  deemed  it 
expedient  to  do  so. 

132 


The  Poet's  Banishment  133 

Nor  had  they  long  to  wait  the  opportunity,  for 
there  was  at  that  time  some  question  as  to  whether 
in  case  of  death  there  was  a  lawful  successor  to  the 
shogun.  While  the  matter  was  as  yet  of  no  real  im- 
portance either  to  the  shogunate  or  the  party,  it  was 
seized  upon  and  agitated  by  Ikamon  for  a  double 
purpose.  Had  there  been  any  real  prospects  of 
lyesada's  losing  hold  on  life  there  might  have  been 
occasion  for  the  great  ado  which  was  being  made 
about  it;  for  the  shogun  to  die  without  a  lawful  suc- 
cessor was  considered  the  greatest  misfortune  that 
could  befall  the  nation.  The  proper  degree  of  inter- 
est having  been  aroused,  and  the  shogun  himself 
having  taken  on  the  desired  state  of  susceptibility, 
it  was  urged  upon  his  highness  to  call  in  the  cus- 
tomary wise  man  without  delay ;  and  as  Michizane  had 
already  become  known  for  his  premonitions,  Ikamon 
had  only  to  mention  the  poet's  name  to  induce  his 
selection. 

Michizane  was  sitting  at  his  accustomed  place 
musing  the  hours  away  when  a  messenger,  escorted 
by  two  courtiers  with  large  letters  emblazoned  upon 
their  uniforms,  approached  and  with  much  ceremony 
handed  him  a  parchment  roll.  It  was  the  shogun's 
command,  so  Michizane  trembled  as  he  broke  the 
seal  and  read  from  the  long  document,  which  unrolled 
from  his  hand.  It  was  a  great  honour  conferred, 
even  more  than  he  had  dared  ever  to  dream,  and 
charity  should  pardon  the  rise  of  feeling  which  he 
then  experienced. 

A  chair  stood  outside  awaiting  his  pleasure,  and 
also  a  regular  cavalcade  of  guards,  runners,  carriers, 
and  attendants  was  there,  in  silk  and  gold,  ready  to 
pay  him  attention.  At  first  he  said  not  a  word; 


134  Shibusawa 

then  glancing  around  and  bowing  low,  signalled  his 
"honourable  informant"  to  await  his  "miserable 
preparation." 

After  advising  his  mistress,  and  receiving  her 
blessing  —  amid  somewhat  of  misgivings  -  -  he 
marched  down  the  line  and  took  his  place  in  the 
swaying  palanquin.  Without  delay  he  was  carried 
directly  to  the  hall  of  state,  where  Ikamon  met  him 
and,  escorting  him  to  a  private  chamber  held  and 
coached  him  until  the  hour  of  his  presentation  had 
arrived.  And  while  there,  the  very  first  thing  im- 
pressed upon  his  mind  was  his  indebtedness  to  Ikamon 
and  to  no  other  for  the  honour  of  his  appointment. 
He  needed  no  coaching  as  to  the  gravity  of  the 
situation ;  that  was  a  thing  to  be  understood. 

"You  are  to  tell  the  shogun,  the  supreme  admin- 
istrator of  the  divine  mikado,  the  confidant  of  Ika- 
mon, and  the  lover  of  his  loyal  subjects,  that  there 
is  extreme  danger  of  a  failure  of  succession  should 
his  august  highness  refuse  longer  to  sojourn  without 
the  pale  of  his  reverend  predecessors,  and  that  it 
now  becomes  your  painful  duty  to  predict  the  imme- 
diate adoption  of  one  lyemochi,  a  member  of  the 
legion,  and  supporter  of  the  cause." 

This  is  what  Ikamon  told  the  innocent  Michizane 
to  say,  yet  he  knew  it  would  so  enrage  the  shogun 
that  he  would  cause  the  seer  forthwith  to  be  con- 
signed to  harakiri  or  banishment  for  life.  Ikamon 
had  also  anticipated  its  other  effect  upon  the  doubtful 
lyesada,  causing  him  to  brood  over  the  succession 
and  finally  to  carry  out  the  predicted  measure  in 
the  hope  of  warding  off  an  evil  hand.  The  banish- 
ment of  the  poet  would  be  a  welcome  thing  because 
it  was  pleasing  to  his  friend  and  war  god,  Tetsu- 


The   Poet's   Banishment  135 

taisho.  The  adoption  of  lyemochi,  a  willing  tool, 
would  insure  Ikamon's  complete  domination  of  the 
shogunate  upon  lyesada's  death,  which  he  thought 
might  be  hastened  if  not  occasioned. 

Thus  Ikamon  planned  and  the  proud,  puffed-up 
scholar  obeyed ;  and  before  the  day  had  passed  Michi- 
zane  found  his  vanity  gratified  and  himself  con- 
demned to  banishment  for  the  rest  of  his  life.  When 
night  came  he  was  lashed  down  with  cords,  and 
without  a  parting  word  carried  far  away,  never  to 
return. 

The  oracle  had  spoken  and  the  bigoted,  suspicious 
lyesada  had  believed  it  the  voice  of  Ema-O,  and 
knowing  of  no  safer  commitment  chose  the  Isle  of 
Banishment.  Nor  did  this  alone  satisfy  his  over- 
wrought conscience,  but  immediately  the  thing  was 
done  he  called  Ikamon  and  upon  his  advice  adopted 
forthwith  the  child  successor,  and  proclaimed  a  uni- 
versal rejoicing. 

The  new  heir  was  hailed  with  acclamation,  Ikamon 
praised  for  his  cleverness,  and  Tetsutaisho  applauded 
by  his  admiring  friends ;  though  new  troubles  dawned 
on  every  side.  Takara's  eyes  opened  to  her  true  situa- 
tion, and  her  faithful  adherents  rallied  to  plan  her 
deliverance.  Tetsutaisho  observed  her  growing  in- 
difference, but  crediting  it  with  no  deeper  meaning 
than  personal  apathy  sought  in  his  old  way  to  revive 
the  spark  which  so  soon  seemed  all  but  dead.  It  was 
of  no  use,  for  Takara  saw  farther  than  he  knew. 


CHAPTER   XX 

THE    FORTY-SEVEN    RONIN 

TAKARA  deeply  mourned  the  fate  of  Michizane, 
whom  she  not  only  loved  but  had  revered  as 
the  only  living  representative  left  to  her  of  a  fast 
fading  memory.  She  pondered,  but  wisely  held  her 
counsel.  Tetsutaisho  did  not  fathom  her,  but  satis- 
fied himself  and  reviled  her  upon  shallower  grounds. 

When  left  to  his  own  recourse,  shorn  of  impulse, 
his  understanding  seldom  rose  above  the  lesser  order. 
He  was  big  in  war,  but  small  in  consequence.  Nor 
was  his  sympathy  any  the  greater,  and  when  she 
remonstrated  about  her  child,  he  laughed  and  told 
her  that  she,  a  daughter  of  royalty,  should  be  the 
last  to  question  the  wisdom  of  the  law.  He  only 
urged  her  to  forget  the  circumstance  and  respect  his 
will.  She  acquiesced  for  the  time  being,  but  there 
was  rising  within  her  a  bitter  spirit.  There  was 
coming  a  day  when  the  mind,  too,  should  assert  its 
rank;  when  the  soul  should  attain  its  fulness. 

"But  why  are  you  less  ardent?"  questioned  he, 
one  evening  after  having  returned  from  Kinsan's 
apartments,  where,  as  Takara  knew,  he  was  now  in 
the  habit  of  regularly  spending  much  time. 

"Would  you  ask  me  why  darkness  follows 
light,  the  earth  rotates  on  its  axis,  and  flesh  turns 
to  stone?  I  thought  you  a  man  of  consequence, 
not  an  object  of  pity,"  answered  she,  calmly  though 
earnestly. 

136 


The   Forty-Seven  Ronin  137 

Tetsutaisho  stood  aghast  at  her  daring,  yet  thought 
not  to  search  for  its  meaning.  Had  he  but  looked 
outside,  the  veil  might  have  fallen  from  his  blinded 
eyes,  for  the  same  spirit  which  moved  Takara  had 
roused  a  host  of  valiant  defenders.  The  boldness  of 
Ikamon's  stroke  had  so  stunned  the  enemy  as  to 
irrevocably  establish  the  new  order,  but  not  without 
inevitably  disastrous  consequences. 

Even  to  the  shogun's  supporters,  the  destruction 
of  the  apparently  harmless  Michizane,  and  the  advent 
of  the  scarcely  known  child,  lyeyoshi,  seemed  so 
veiled  in  mystery  that  many  were  inclined  to  believe 
that  some  deep-laid  scheme  lay  behind  a  rather  elu- 
sive but  possible  trick.  In  consequence,  the  shogun, 
in  his  weakness,  anxious  to  hide  his  stupidity  behind 
some  apparent  justification,  took  the  burden  upon 
his  own  shoulders  and  thus  widened  the  breach  be- 
tween himself  and  his  true  friends,  increasing  to  that 
extent  his  dependence  upon  Ikamon. 

The  discontent  due  to  the  adoption  of  an  heir  to 
the  shogunate  became  after  a  time,  however,  some- 
what allayed;  but  the  curiosity  aroused  by  the  banish- 
ment of  Michizane  increased,  and  the  feeling  of  unrest 
at  the  mikado 's  seat  grew  to  such  degree  that  before 
a  year  had  passed  the  south  began  to  assume  a  re- 
sentful if  not  hostile  attitude.  Nearly  five  years 
had  elapsed  since  their  favourite  daughter,  Takara, 
had  been  carried  away  to  become  the  wife  of  Shibu- 
sawa,  the  most  promising  of  the  young  princes  under 
the  shogunate.  No  results  had  as  yet  obtained 
from  this  alliance,  nor  had  the  restoration  of  the 
kuge  12  taken  place  as  promised.  They  were  dis- 
satisfied, and  Takara's  misalliance  was  the  first  pre- 
text seized  upon  to  rouse  a  determined  move.  Spies 


1^8  Shibusawa 

had  been  sent  to  Tokyo  and  the  whole  truth  discov- 
ered to  a  few  of  the  leaders,  yet  from  policy's  sake 
these  reports  had  been  suppressed  in  the  hope  of  per- 
fecting a  more  judicious  organisation  before  the  ad- 
vent of  a  general  uprising. 

This  conservatism  on  the  part  of  the  southern 
leaders  baffled  Ikamon,  who  believed  them,  like  him- 
self, incapable  of  looking  beyond  self-interest  for 
a  motive.  Others  might  sacrifice  and  strive  for 
humanity,  but  the  sweet-voiced  god  Oshaka  ever 
whispered  in  Ikamon's  ear  the  one  word,  "Self."  It 
was  self  that  lay  at  the  bottom;  self  that  raised 
the  human  above  the  brute;  self  that  promised  life 
eternal:  the  gods  were  but  self,  asserted  and  ordained, 
and  ordinary  man  was  only  the  blind,  the  halt,  the 
sympathetic.  Diplomacy  was  his  weapon,  heroism 
an  humbler  man's  part. 

Tetsutaisho  was  now  too  much  absorbed  with 
personal  affairs  even  to  try  to  grasp  the  outer  shreds 
of  a  complicated  political  situation.  True,  he  had 
realised  in  some  measure  from  time  to  time  that  an 
ugly  gossip  circulated  on  the  outside  as  to  affairs 
at  his  house ;  yet  he  was  slow  to  appreciate  its  impor- 
tance, and  but  for  being  urged  from  other  sources 
would  have  given  it  barely  passing  notice.  He  busied 
himself  more  with  shifting  his  attentions  from  a 
worn  love  to  one  that  was  new  though  elusive,  and 
as  yet  unfound. 

Thus  Tetsutaisho  for  once  released  Takara  from 
his  constant  attention,  and  when  she  lay  down  in 
the  freedom  of  her  chamber  she  marvelled  at  his 
neglect,  for  she  not  only  knew  his  real  purpose  in 
bringing  Kinsan  into  the  house,  but  understood  his 
utter  failure.  She  realised  that  the  innocent  girl's 


The  Forty-Seven  Ronin  139 

struggles  had  not  been  in  vain,  and  she  gloried  in  her 
virtue.  She  said  to  herself: 

"What  a  womanhood!  Oh,  if  I  had  but  known 
the  way!  How  gladly  would  I  surrender  the  wreath 
of  state,  the  power  of  kings,  for  the  crown  of  purity! 
But  alas!  it  is  not  mine.  It  is  only  for  those  who 
know  their  true  god.  May  I  never  again  see 
mine!" 

Then  she  slept,  and  she  dreamed  that  she  heard 
Michizane's  voice,  that  he  spoke  to  her,  and  that 
the  words  were  a  poem  in  praise  of  her  ancestors, 
that  all  about  was  a  garden  and  in  it  were  her  friends ; 
that  her  soul  turned  to  beauty,  and  joy  came  down 
from  Heaven,  and  all  was  peace.  She  did  not  wake, 
but  saw  Hyaku,  the  young  magician,  and  felt  the 
power  of  his  magic,  although  she  could  neither  move 
nor  speak. 

The  Band  of  Forty-Seven  had  entered  Takara's 
chamber  at  dead  of  night,  and  placing  her  in  a  light 
chair  slung  upon  the  backs  of  swift  carriers,  well  dis- 
guised, ran  with  the  speed  of  the  hare,  the  endurance 
of  the  ox;  and  before  they  could  be  overtaken,  or 
it  was  really  known  what  had  happened,  they  were 
at  Kyoto,  in  her  own  mother's  house;  when  again 
Takara  saw  the  hand  of  Hyaku,  and  felt  its  power; 
she  awakened  and  there  was  real  gladness  in  her 
heart.  She  made  no  inquiry  as  to  how  it  all  hap- 
pened, or  as  to  the  motive  which  prompted  their 
timely  action.  She  knew  that  it  was  the  ronin  13 
who  fetched  her,  and  that  she  was  welcome  when  she 
got  there.  Had  she  known  all,  she  would  have  under- 
stood better  how  those  trusted  men  had  for  days  and 
months  waited  and  watched  their  chance  to  seize 
and  carry  her  away  to  her  friends;  back  to  the  home 


140  Shibusawa 

she  had  surrendered  to  no  purpose  except  that  of 
sorrow  and  regret. 

The  news  of  Takara's  return  to  the  home  of  her 
childhood,  and  of  the  manner  of  her  escape,  soon 
became  known  to  the  immediate  friends  of  Tetsu- 
taisho's  family.  Maido  paid  but  little  attention  to 
the  circumstance,  and  thus,  probably,  gave  occa- 
sion for  the  rumour,  which  gained  some  credence, 
that  he  had  actually  winked  at  her  going  and  was  not 
particular  about  her  returning.  However  that  may 
be,  his  general  failing  and  prolonged  worry  over 
Shibusawa's  absence  were  not  a  sufficient  shield  for 
his  indifference,  at  least  in  the  opinion  of  some  of 
his  less  intimate  friends.  Tetsutaisho,  more  dazed 
at  the  audacity  of  the  ronin  than  puzzled  with  the 
reason  for  Takara's  abduction,  at  first  inclined  toward 
instituting  a  vigorous  pursuit,  but  upon  second 
thought  concluded  he  had  best  consult  his  friends 
before  inaugurating  any  such  serious  undertaking. 

"It  is  not  so  much  that  I  care  for  the  concubine," 
said  he  to  Ikamon,  on  the  following  day;  "it  is  the 
vindication  of  the  law  that  prompts  me  to  send  a 
detachment  for  her  relief.  These  bands  of  marauders 
must  be  suppressed,  even  at  the  cost  of  war  upon 
their  stronghold.  What  safety  is  there  for  a  gentle- 
man so  long  as  his  castle  may  be  entered  and  his 
property  carried  away  while  he  sleeps?  The  next 
we  hear,  it  will  be  the  shogun  himself  of  whom  we 
are  robbed.  Give  Tetsutaisho  the  word,  I  say,  and 
he  will  soon  make  an  end  of  it  —  Saigo,  the  ronin,  his 
dreamers,  Kido,  and  all." 

Ikamon  did  not  fire  so  easily  as  to  let  his  enthusi- 
asm run  away  with  his  judgment,  yet  he  was  none 
the  less  quick  to  apprehend  the  danger  confronting 


The  Forty-Seven   Ronin  141 

them.  The  paltry  sop  thrown  to  Saigo  and  a  few 
followers  had  scarcely  touched  the  lofty  progress  of 
the  literati.  There  could  be  but  one  finale:  mate- 
rialism must  sooner  or  later  find  itself  pitted  against 
patriotism.  lyesada,  weak  and  uncertain,  was  little 
to  the  purpose  in  a  serious  conflict,  and  no  one  knew 
better  than  Ikamon  the  over-sensitive  shogun's  in- 
clination to  side  with  the  last  to  persuade ;  of  his  want 
of  policy;  of  his  anxiety  and  bewilderment.  He 
therefore  urged  upon  Tetsutaisho  the  necessity  of 
proceeding  in  the  dark  and  cautiously. 

"Keep  these  fellows  at  bay,"  said  he,  confiden- 
tially, "until  we  can  discover  their  real  purpose  and 
strength.  In  the  meantime  lyesada  may  die  —  Ika- 
mon can  then  safely  devise.  The  shogunate  in  the 
hands  of  an  infant  is  better  to  our  purpose.  The 
plans  of  the  mikadate  if  in  our  hands  can  be  made 
to  serve  rather  than  defeat  us.  I  would  advise,  if 
advice  be  meet,  that  you  send  out  your  spies  and  keep 
at  home  your  force." 

Tetsutaisho  heeded  the  warning,  and  before  long 
copious  if  not  trustworthy  news  came  from  every 
conceivable  source.  lyesada  soon  died,  and  the 
youthful  lyemochi  succeeded  as  shogun;  while  Tet- 
sutaisho marvelled  at  Ikamon's  wisdom,  and  more 
than  ever  resigned  himself  to  the  conquest  of  more 
peaceful  delights.  Kinsan  had  suddenly  become  the 
sole  object  of  his  attention,  and  for  her  heart  he 
pressed  his  suit,  more  than  ever  ardent,  if  not  sincere. 
Maido,  absolved  from  all  these  matters,  had  more 
and  more  devoted  himself  to  the  memory  of  his 
son,  but  now  that  good  news  had  reached  him 
he  rejoiced,  and  anxiously  awaited  the  return  of 
Shibusawa. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

THE    HOME-COMING 

MAIDO  had  not  long  to  wait,  though  the  time 
seemed  never  to  pass.  It  was  the  first  word 
received  from  his  son,  for  Shibusawa  knew  the  danger 
of  even  attempting  to  communicate  with  either  his 
parent  or  Kinsan.  During  all  these  3^ears  he  knew 
not  what  effect  his  departure  had  wrought  at  home, 
nor  of  the  fortunes  of  those  whom  he  had  left  behind. 
Still  he  had  always  hoped  for  the  best,  and  when  he 
had  definitely  made  up  his  mind  to  return  he  so  man- 
aged to  forward  the  letter  of  advice  as  to  bring  it 
safely  to  Maido's  hand;  arriving,  as  it  happened, 
only  a  few  days  after  Takara  had  been  seized  and 
carried  away  by  the  ronin,  and  none  too  early,  for 
Shibusawa  himself  came  soon  thereafter. 

To  avoid  possible  compromise  Shibusawa  had 
couched  the  letter  in  such  terms  that  no  one  but  a 
father  could  be  the  wiser  for  its  contents;  therefore 
no  dates  were  fixed,  and  the  anxious  daimyo  had  only 
to  wait,  and  for  hours  sat  watching  the  gate  in  front. 
These  were  suspicious  times  at  Tokyo,  hence  no 
preparations  could  be  made  for  the  home-coming, 
nor  information  given  out,  save  Maido's  instructions 
to  the  faithful  Okyo.  Thereafter  no  arrival  escaped 
that  one's  vigilant  eye,  and  when  the  expected  ship 
had  safely  arrived  at  Yokohama  he  was  there  on 
hand  with  an  extra  pilgrim's  outfit  on  his  back. 

Late  the  next  evening  they  two  reached  home,  and 

142 


The  Home-Coining  143 

Shibusawa,  footsore  and  weary,  hurried  up  the  path- 
way and  into  the  house,  where  he  bowed  low  at  his 
father's  feet.  Neither  attempted  to  speak.  When 
Shibusawa  had  changed  his  clothing  they  sat  in  the 
cool  of  the  evening,  for  it  was  now  late  in  June,  enjoy- 
ing the  breeze  that  floated  in  from  the  bay  in  the 
distance.  The  family  brazier  was  again  brought  out, 
and  they  sat  and  smoked  and  talked  the  hours  away. 

"And  now,  father,"  said  the  son,  after  they  had 
talked  much  about  the  family  and  things  at  home, 
"you  must  lie  down  and  sleep,  and  to-morrow  I  shall 
tell  you  all  about  myself.  I  know  you  are  anxious 
to  hear,  but  you  must  rest  now,  and  then  the  story 
will  be  the  more  pleasing.  You  need  have  no  fear 
but  you  shall  hear  it  all  —  I  am  returned,  and  I 
promise  I  shall  not  soon  again  leave  you.  Good- 
night, and  peace  for  you." 

They  had  no  sooner  parted  and  the  father  gone  to 
sleep  than  Shibusawa  hastened  to  change  his  dress 
and  once  again  find  his  way  to  the  hidden  cave.  The 
time  seemed  long  to  him  since  he  had  last  been  there, 
and  now  that  he  was  about  to  go  again  he  felt  that 
he  never  would  get  started.  Just  why  he  wanted 
to  hurry  there  he  did  not  know;  possibly  he  had  not 
consulted  reason;  yet  it  was  his  only  hope,  and  that 
was  enough  to  impel  him  to  go. 

As  he  approached  the  familiar  gate  where  he  had 
so  often  passed  he  observed  that  new  locks  hung 
from  the  latches;  that  the  old  guard  had  gone;  that 
a  haughty,  "Who  goes  there?  "  greeted  his  ears,  and 
suddenly  it  appeared  to  him  that  a  great  change  had 
taken  place.  He  realised  for  the  first  time  that  he 
was  no  longer  in  the  land  which  he  had  left  only  a 
few  years  before;  that  here,  too,  the  seed  of  progress 


144  Shibusawa 

had  been  sown,  and  that  already  new  sprouts 
were  bursting  forth.  He  marvelled  at  the  new 
order,  and  a  fresh  desire  came  upon  him.  Sud- 
denly he  turned  upon  the  trusty,  and  in  answer  said 
convincingly : 

"A  friend." 

He  knew  it  was  of  no  use  to  deny  his  purpose  or 
make  any  extended  explanation;  neither  was  he  will- 
ing nor  the  guard  desirous  that  he  should.  Under 
the  circumstances  just  one  thing  would  gain  his  ad- 
mittance; none  in  that  land  knew  better  than  Shibu- 
sawa, the  newly  returned,  just  what  results  could  be 
obtained  by  the  judicious  use  of  money.  So,  when 
the  pompous  keeper  jerked  his  steel  from  the  hip 
and  held  it  abreast  his  chin,  with  firm  footing  and 
erect  body,  Shibusawa  did  not  weaken  in  the  least, 
but  boldly  approached  and  unconcernedly  dropped  a 
coin  in  the  fellow's  convenient  hand. 

"All's  well!"  shouted  the  subdued  guard,  as  he 
turned  his  back  and  lowered  his  arms,  the  while 
Shibusawa  raised  the  latch  and  entered  at  one  side 
the  ponderous  gate. 

He  did  not  hesitate  nor  give  the  matter  further 
thought,  but  hurried  on  toward  the  place  which  to 
him  bore  the  most  pleasant  memory  of  his  life.  Each 
pebble  seemed  a  guide  post,  and  every  step  an  inspira- 
tion. He  tramped  on  without  either  stopping  or  lag- 
ging until  the  hill  had  been  scaled,  and  then  there 
came  over  him  grave  feelings  of  doubt  and  of  dread. 
The  pathway  was  no  longer  clear.  The  entrance  was 
a  tangled  thicket  of  brier  and  weeds.  He  made 
further  progress  with  difficulty,  and  when  he  had 
reached  the  mouldy  place  no  friendly  sight  greeted 
his  eyes.  Years  of  abandonment  had  obliterated 


The   Home-Coming  145 

everything  except  her  memory.  He  paused  and  looked 
around,  then  shuddered,  and  stumbled  toward  that 
side  where  once  the  stone  steps  had  marked  the  en- 
trance. They  were  still  bare,  though  unused;  no 
trash  had  gathered  there.  They  were  yet  as  unde- 
filed  as  they  were  on  the  day  he  had  found  Kinsan 
lying  upon  them.  He  sat  down  and  searched  among 
the  stars  for  an  answer  to  his  heart's  yearnings. 

Long  he  studied  as  to  what  had  been  her  fate. 
Each  new  thought  stirred  him  to  greater  determina- 
tion, every  discouragement  moved  him  to  plan  afresh. 
He  must  find  her;  yet  he  sat  with  his  face  buried  in 
his  hands;  despair  overshadowed  him.  Then  he 
thought  of  the  old  hiding-place,  where  in  days  gone  by 
they  were  wont  to  secrete  such  messages  as  were 
sacred  to  them  alone.  He  arose  and  climbed  up  to 
the  entrance  as  if  it  were  but  yesterday  that  he  had 
been  there. 

He  raised  the  wisteria,  which  had  grown  heavy  and 
more  dense.  Inside  the  walled  den,  the  webs 
stretched  thicker  and  stronger  than  before.  Here 
and  there  a  spider  paused,  then  ran  his  way.  There 
was  no  sound,  yet  a  voice  bade  him  enter.  He 
searched,  and  in  the  centre  found  two  stones,  placed 
one  on  top  of  the  other.  He  knew  they  were 
placed  there  not  by  accident.  Fear  overcame  him, 
and  he  stood  breathless,  yet  powerless.  Then  he 
stooped  and  raised  the  stone,  which  revealed  a 
message  that  to  him  was  sweeter,  dearer  than  all 
the  world. 

He  hastened  back  to  the  cave,  and  seating  himself 
on  the  stone  steps,  where  he  had  pressed  her  close  to 
him  and  listened  to  her  golden  words  of  confidence, 
broke  the  seal  from  which  there  unfolded  a  musty 


146  Shibusawa 

sheet  that  in  the  light  of  a  smiling  moon  again  spoke 
her  heart's  content: 

"DEAR   LOVE: 

"It  is  for  you  that  I  write.  None  other  is  worth 
the  while.  I  am  going  to-morrow  where  fate  has 
called  me.  I  have  little  to  offer,  except  an  undying 
love;  all  else  is  theirs;  it  is  decreed  right.  But  so 
long  as  the  soul  is  and  the  heart  beats,  this  love  shall 
be  yours  and  only  yours.  The  spirit  which  gave  it 
to  you  shall  keep  it  for  you. 

"Oh,  decree  of  man,  where  is  your  relish!  I  bow  to 
your  will,  but  in  him  is  my  god.  My  Shibusawa,  my 
love,  my  light!  In  you  life  still  has  hope.  Death 
shall  meet  its  reward.  Think  of  me  a  little,  do  not 
judge  me  harshly,  let  me  live  as  my  heart  tells  me, 
and  I  shall  die  happy.  The  troubles  of  the  earth  will 
be  as  the  joys  of  heaven,  and  you  shall  be  the  hand 
that  guides  me,  saves  me  —  oh,  I  love  you  so !  I 
cannot  live  except  for  you,  I  shall  not  die  without  you. 

"Believe  me,  your  true  love,  your  sweetheart, 

"K." 

The  puzzled  man  read  the  note  again  and  again 
with  care,  then  leaned  back  in  silence.  He  had 
divined  only  too  truly  her  fate,  and  when  he  thought 
that  possibly  she,  too,  had  been  put  up  to  the  highest 
bidder,  a  feeling  of  faintness  took  hold  of  him  and  he 
bent  forward  and  sat  for  a  long  time  unable  to  move 
or  to  decide. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A    MEETING    IN    THE    GARDEN 

THE  cock  had  already  crowed  before  Shibusawa 
reached  his  chamber  and  lay  down  to  rest. 
He  could  not  sleep,  but  arose  and  went  for  a  walk  in 
the  woodland  bordering  the  castle  grounds.  Here 
he  searched  out  a  secluded  spot,  where  he  sat  down  in 
the  light  of  early  morning  to  think  and  plan.  The 
air  was  still  and  the  sun  just  beginning  to  pierce  the 
cool  shade  of  the  forest,  with  here  and  there  a  ray  of 
warmth.  Presently  the  quiet  was  broken  by  the 
sound  of  footsteps  approaching  through  the  garden, 
and  looking  up  he  saw  Maido  coming  toward  him. 

"Are  you  here,  too,  and  so  early?"  said  the  daimyo, 
with  a  ring  of  gladness  that  came  from  his  heart.  "  I 
thought  only  the  elders,  like  me,  enjoyed  a  sunrise 
jaunt  among  the  stately  sentinels  of  time.  Come,  my 
lordship,  join  me  and  I'll  show  you  how  a  son's  re- 
turn affects  a  father's  legs.  It's  many  a  day  since 
these  old  stokies  of  mind  served  me  as  they  have  this 
morning.  It  reminds  me  of  the  time  when  a  mother 
brought  you  to  my  side.  A  happy  day  it  was,  and 
she  lies  up  yonder,  my  boy,  in  the  tomb,  behind  the 
temple.  You  may  not  dislike  going  there  with  your 
father  —  will  you,  this  morning? " 

Shibusawa  may  have  anticipated  the  idea,  for  they 
set  off  together  toward  the  family  shrine.  The  dis- 
tance was  not  great  nor  the  hill  steep ;  just  enough  to 
quicken  old  age  and  banter  youth. 

147 


148  Shibusawa 

They  did  not  tarry  long  at  the  tomb,  —  only  long 
enough  to  revere  the  dead  and  inspire  the  living,  — 
but  soon  arose  and  retraced  their  steps  a  short  dis- 
tance to  where  they  seated  themselves  in  the  shade 
of  the  temple.  As  they  sat  they  could  see  afar  over 
the  samurai  dwellings  and  the  noised-up  city  to  the 
glassy  bay  in  front,  or  over  the  castle  grounds  to  the 
left,  or  to  the  timbered  hills  on  the  right.  There 
they  sat  and  talked  at  will.  Now  and  then  the  con- 
versation drifted  back  to  Shibusawa 's  absence,  and 
each  experience  related  touched  more  deeply  the 
father's  slow  but  certain  apprehension. 

"I  dare  say  there  are  no  temples  in  that  far-away 
land,"  said  the  lord  daimyo,  more  inquisitive  than 
positive. 

"Oh,  yes,  there  are,"  was  the  young  prince's  quick 
rejoinder,  "only  they  are  much  larger  and  less  beauti- 
ful. They  worship  in  herds  in  that  country;  and 
they  have  a  paid  supplicant  to  do  the  honours,  while 
the  multitude  sit  and  gape  and  snore.  It's  a  great 
saving  of  time  and  trouble,  this  European  method  of 
salvation." 

"And  have  they  gods?" 

"Oh,  yes;  they  have  a  God.  The  principle  is  just 
the  same.  It's  only  the  form  that  makes  it  different 
from  ours." 

"Ah,  the  practice!  And  after  all,  that  is  man's 
only  reality:  the  ideal  is  the  grander  existence.  And 
do  these  strange  worshippers  have  habitations,  and 
go  about  clad  as  we  do?" 

"They  have  houses  —  ours  are  not  like  theirs, 
thanks  to  good  fortune  —  in  which  the  idea,  as  in 
their  churches,  is  to  get  as  many  under  one  roof  as 
possible.  They  build  floor  over  floor,  and  then  wear 


A   Meeting  in  the  Garden         149 

their  lives  out  climbing  from  one  to  the  other.  They 
are  not  only  herders  but  climbers  as  well.  Then  the 
craze  to  encroach  one  upon  another  is  so  great  that  all 
try  to  live  at  a  few  isolated  spots.  There  are  millions 
of  broad  acres  —  the  area  is  so  great  that  for  want  of  a 
comparison  I  cannot  convey  to  you  anything  but  a 
hazed  idea  —  upon  which  the  sun  shines  and  over 
which  the  fresh  air  circulates,  yet  these  people  hang 
out  of  ten-story  windows  and  pant  for  breath  or 
hide  away  in  some  dark,  damp  rooms  and  stare  their 
eyes  out  under  the  glare  of  firelight." 

"Horrors!  my  son.  And  they  would  teach  us  how 
to  live?" 

"Not  only  that,  but  they  cover  the  streets  with 
rock  and  steel  and  then  force  iron-wheeled  cars  over 
the  rough  surface  or  harsh-sounding  rails  until  the 
roar  and  the  clatter  make  them  deaf  or  drive  them 
insane." 

"Shocking!" 

"And  when  they  sleep  at  night  they  huddle  to- 
gether under  the  same  quilt,  and  when  they  arise  and 
go  about  their  walled  dens  or  out  upon  the  filth- 
breeding,  dust-driven  streets  they  cover  themselves 
with  all  sorts  of  coarse  material  far  rougher  than  our 
matting  on  the  floor  or  the  material  with  which  we 
sack  our  products  of  the  field.  Their  feet  are  bound 
up  in  close-fitting  skins  on  which  are  nailed  or  sewn 
stiff  leather  soles,  and  their  heads  are  weighted  down 
with  all  manner  of  hot,  ill-shaped  and  wind -catching 
hats  or  other  gear." 

"And  is  such  their  clothing?" 

"Yes.  And  it  is  fashioned,  mostly,  so  as  to  expose 
as  much  as  possible  the  person's  form,  or  its  lines,  and 
it  may  be  worn,  or  donned,  in  piecemeal.  It  is  only 


1 50  Shibusawa 

to  be  commended  for  street  sweeping  or  fly  baiting. 
And  what  a  mixture;  and  so  untidy  and  so  uncom- 
fortable! It  makes  me  creep  all  over  when  I  think  of 
it,  and  of  how  they  swelter  on  a  hot  day  and  freeze 
on  a  cold  one." 

"What  barbarians!" 

"And  their  food!  Well,  I  can  best  impress  you 
with  that  by  saying  that  the  cooks  and  doctors  con- 
stitute a  large  percentage  of  the  population,  and  that 
the  mortality  resulting  from  the  strife  carried  on  be- 
tween the  two  classes,  the  one  tearing  down  and  the 
other  building  up,  is  hardly  less  than  frightful.  The 
science  of  both  is  a  constant  assault  upon  the  stom- 
ach, with  the  odds  so  overwhelmingly  in  favour  of  the 
cooks  that  life  is  reduced  to  an  average  period  of  only 
some  thirty-three  years.  And  the  taste,  and  the 
smell!  Well,  either  is  farthest  removed  from  nature's 
storehouse,  and  that  is  enough  said,  I  warrant." 

"And  that  is  where  you  have  been  seeking  knowl- 
edge all  this  time?" 

"Yes;  I  spent  only  four  of  the  five  years  at  college, 
learning  how  to  cheat.  Yes,  cheat;  that  is  the  thing. 
First  man,  then  nature.  The  former,  because  it  is 
easy;  the  latter,  because  it  is  progress.  And  if  the 
fructifications  of  a  scientist,  or  a  doctor,  or  a  lawyer, 
or  a  preacher,  or  a  merchant,  do  not  meet  with  your 
ideas  of  success,  then  try  the  fortunes  of  a  statesman 
or  a  warrior;  and  what  you  cannot  get  by  diplomacy, 
force  with  powder  and  shot." 

"And  that  is  what  you  call  Christian  civilisation?" 

"It  is  so  called." 

"Then  shame!" 

"Even  so,  their  progress  is  none  the  less." 

"What  is  the  secret?" 


A   Meeting  in  the  Garden         151 

"The  machine." 

The  conversation  broke  off  there  and  they  both  sat 
for  a  long  time  absorbed  in  study.  The  one  looked 
backward,  the  other  forward.  Neither  was  satisfied ; 
man  never  is. 

Presently  Shibusawa  began  rambling  over  his  ex- 
periences, relating  first  an  incident  and  telling  after- 
wards of  a  conquest.  His  father's  spirits  rose,  and 
they  laughed  or  marvelled  together  as  an  amusing 
episode  or  an  awkward  situation  came  to  mind.  He 
told  of  how  fortune  had  compelled  him  to  work  his 
passage  and  earn  his  way  from  the  time  he  left  his 
native  land  until  he  had  returned;  of  how  he  had 
pushed  on  from  place  to  place  until  the  American 
continent  had  been  crossed,  and  how  in  the  great  city 
of  New  York  he  had  struggled  to  complete  a  course  in 
college.  And  withal  he  had  been  studious  and  so 
frugal  that  by  the  time  he  was  graduated  he  had 
saved  enough  from  his  earnings  to  pay  his  passage  to 
Europe,  thence  home  again  via  the  Suez  Canal  and 
Hong  Kong. 

His  experiences  had  been  somewhat  unpleasant  at 
first,  but  as  time  passed  and  he  had  become  accus- 
tomed to  work  he  did  not  find  the  necessities  of  the 
situation  so  irksome.  Upon  the  whole  he  felt  con- 
tented with  results,  and  believed  that  his  search  for 
knowledge  had  not  been  amiss.  Although  he  had 
been  subjected  to  keen  humiliation  and  had  met  with 
much  hardship,  he  harboured  no  ill-feeling  toward 
the  new  civilisation  which  he  had  encountered.  He 
freely  acknowledged  that  he  appreciated  the  impossi- 
bility of  any  assimilation  between  the  Occident  and 
the  Orient,  and  felt  that  while  the  one  sojourned  with 
the  other  he  needs  must  suffer  a  disadvantage. 


152  Shibusawa 

"While  I  regret  that  I  have  given  you  cause  for  so 
much  anxiety,"  continued  Shibusawa,  "I  feel  that  I 
have  done  nothing  to  disgrace  you,  and  that  the  ex- 
perience and  knowledge  gained  will  sometime  serve,  us 
well.  In  all  things  pertaining  to  life  there  must  be  a 
beginning,  and  that  I  have  been  a  pioneer  I  do  not 
regret.  I  shall  always  endeavour  to  make  the  best 
use  of  my  opportunities,  and  I  am  now  ready  to  take 
my  proper  place." 

"You  have  spoken  well,  my  son,  and  Maido  is 
proud." 

Soon  after,  though  late  in  the  morning,  they  arose 
and  wended  their  way  toward  the  castle,  and  as  they 
went  their  interest  gradually  drifted  to  matters  at 
home,  including  the  marriage  of  Nehachibana.  Maido 
told  his  son  all  about  Takara's  recent  disappearance 
from  Tokyo,  but  mentioned  only  casually  her  sojourn 
with  the  Tetsutaishos.  Though  deeply  interested 
Shibusawa  showed  little  concern  about  his  wife,  and 
no  criticisms  were  offered;  he  appreciated  his  father's 
situation  in  the  matter  and  resolved  to  be  considerate. 
A  deeper  thought  began  to  reassert  itself,  growing 
anxiety  took  hold  of  him,  and  he  soon  became  wrapped 
with  care  only  for  Kinsan. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

AN    UNEXPECTED    CALL 

UPON  Shibusawa's  arrival  at  the  mansion  he 
separated  from  his  father  and,  going  to  his 
own  apartments,  lay  down  to  rest.  The  relaxation, 
due  to  a  change  of  solicitude,  overcame  his  feverish 
anxiety  and  soon  put  him  fast  asleep.  When  he 
arose,  late  in  the  afternoon,  he  set  about  his  duties  as 
if  no  serious  problem  had  ever  entered  his  life,  and 
when  he  met  Ikamon,  his  first  caller,  he  proved  him- 
self the  master  of  his  own  situation. 

The  news  of  Shibusawa's  return  had  soon  spread, 
though  it  created  little  interest  beyond  the  circle  of 
his  immediate  family.  There  was  a  time  when  such 
an  occurrence  would  have  been  heralded  as  an  im- 
portant event,  but  now  the  lord  daimyo  no  longer 
held  the  sway  he  once  did.  True,  there  was  no  falling 
off  in  his  power,  and  indirectly  no  slackening  of  his 
influence ;  still  that  influence  had  come  to  be  exercised 
largely  through  the  medium  of  Ikamon,  and  Maido's 
wealth  and  position  were  more  and  more  accounted  as 
the  latter 's  strength. 

Going  away  from  home  at  so  early  an  age  and  re- 
maining away  for  so  long  a  time,  Shibusawa  had 
never  become  well  known  at  Tokyo,  and  almost 
ceased  to  be  taken  into  account  in  reckoning  the 
family's  political  or  social  status.  Though  Maido's 
neglect,  occasioned  largely  by  grief  for  his  absent  son, 

'53 


1 54  Shibusawa 

had  enabled  Ikamon  to  gradually  appropriate  to  his 
own  use  the  family's  place  and  wealth,  it  was  not  so 
intended;  and  nobody  knew  better  than  the  wily 
son-in-law  himself  that  default  rather  than  purpose 
permitted  him  to  enjoy  the  almost  unlimited  use  of 
another's  fortune.  When  Shibusawa  returned,  Ika- 
mon therefore  hastened  to  cultivate  with  the  son  that 
same  friendly  intercourse  which  he  had  always  en- 
joyed with  the  father.  In  consequence  he  extended 
to  his  relative  a  hearty  greeting,  which  to  his  surprise 
met  with  a  generous  response. 

This  readiness  to  take  the  hand  of  fellowship  did  not 
arise  from  any  lack  of  understanding,  nor  could  its 
motive  be  in  the  least  questioned.  Shibusawa  de- 
sired to  cultivate  a  better  acquaintance  with  his 
father's  associates  and  contemporaries  as  well  as  to 
meet  and  revive  old  friendships.  Persistency  rapidly 
bore  its  fruit,  for  not  alone  his  rank,  but  his  superior 
education  and  polish  gave  him  place,  while  his  quiet, 
unobtrusive  manner  brought  him  into  respect  with 
all  the  more  progressive  of  the  shogun's  court. 

In  matters  of  state  Maido  had  gradually  released 
his  hold,  and  now  that  he  had  grown  old  and  less  in- 
clined to  assume  the  responsibility  he  began  to  long 
for  the  freedom  of  the  country.  The  son,  as  best  he 
could,  assumed  those  duties  which  of  necessity  must 
sooner  or  later  have  devolved  entirely  upon  him,  and 
together  they  planned  so  well  that  by  autumn  they 
were  enabled  to  determine  upon  returning  for  an  in- 
definite period  to  their  home  province,  Kanazawa. 

"Your  long  continued  and  able  service,"  said  Ika- 
mon with  enthusiasm,  when  advised  of  their  plans, 
"demands  some  recognition  at  the  hands  of  those 
who  can  ill  afford  to  lose  your  presence  at  court.  And 


An  Unexpected  Call  155 

to  me,  sir,  it  is  the  greatest  pleasure  of  my  life  to  offer 
some  entertainment  to  my  friends  and  to  your  friends 
and  to  be  permitted  the  privilege.  Come,  my  good 
Maido,  you  shall  not  say  no,  and  Shibusawa,  I  ven- 
ture, will  not." 

"My  son-in-law,  my  Ikamon,  your  good  protesta- 
tions overwhelm  me.  I  certainly  do  not  deserve  such 
kindly  notice.  I  cannot  make  you  a  ready  answer  — 
Shibusawa,  will  you  be  so  good  as  to  speak  for  me?" 

"Yes,  father,"  said  the  son,  politely  bowing.  "If 
his  highness,  the  prime  minister,  so  desires,  I  feel  that 
it  is  a  great  privilege  to  acknowledge  the  honour." 

"And  Ikamon  shall  make  the  occasion  worthy  the 
guests,"  said  the  designing  official,  enthusiastic  over 
the  prospects. 

Now  Maido  and  his  family  could  not  make  so  im- 
portant a  move  without  first  obtaining  the  consent  of 
the  shogun,  and  as  this  rested  primarily  with  the  prime 
minister,  Shibusawa  may  have  had  good  reason  for  so 
quickly  acceding  to  the  doing  of  what  he  knew  to  be 
tainted  with  something  more  than  mere  friendship. 
They  earnestly  desired  the  privilege  of  absenting 
themselves  from  the  capital,  not  alone  that  Maido 
might  enjoy  the  freedom  of  his  former  life  and  the 
intercourse  with  his  people,  but  that  Shibusawa 
might  begin  his  active  career  at  home,  where  he  could 
better  become  acquainted,  and  familiarise  himself 
with  the  needs  and  resources  of  the  prefecture. 
Maido,  now  in  his  declining  years,  also  craved  the 
liberty  of  his  child's  companionship  freed  from  the 
cares  of  court  life,  especially  that  there  were  no  press- 
ing duties  at  the  capital.  He  therefore  set  forth  his 
reasons  and  requests  in  a  letter,  forthwith  despatched 
to  the  department. 


156  Shibusawa 

The  answer  soon  came  back  at  the  hands  of  Ikamon 
himself,  who,  as  a  mark  of  extreme  deference,  took 
along  for  the  first  time  his  respected  wife,  Yasuko,  a 
courtesy  which  so  pleased  Maido  that  he  never  forgot 
the  incident.  Indeed,  they  were  received  with  so 
much  cordiality  that  the  set  call  was  soon  turned 
into  an  informal  affair,  and  the  little  party  did  not 
break  up  until  a  late  hour.  After  refreshments  had 
been  served  they  sat  pleasantly  chatting,  the  two 
elders  about  matters  interesting  to  them,  thus  leav- 
ing Yasuko  and  Shibusawa  to  indulge  themselves  as 
they  liked. 

It  was  Shibusawa's  first  real  opportunity  to  hear  the 
neighbourhood  gossip,  and  while  not  at  all  a  busybody 
he  took  advantage  of  the  occasion  to  learn  some  of 
the  doings  affecting  him  most.  But  Yasuko  was  little 
given  to  gadding  about,  and  in  consequence  not  as 
conversant  with  the  neighbourhood  affairs  as  some 
others.  Indeed,  she  had  never  heard  of  such  a  person 
as  Kinsan,  —  nor  did  Shibusawa  suspect  that  she 
had  ever  had  an  opportunity  or  reason  to  hear  of 
one  in  her  caste,  — therefore,  however  much  desired, 
though  not  expected,  he  gained  no  information  in  that 
direction. 

"I  do  wish  you  would  try  to  see  Nehachibana  be- 
fore you  go  away  to  Kanazawa.  I  fear  it  may  be  a 
long  time,  Shibusawa,  before  you  shall  again  have  a 
chance."  said  Yasuko,  earnestly,  while  they  were 
alone  and  out  of  hearing  distance  of  the  rest  of  those 
present. 

"  I  should  very  much  like  to,"  answered  he,  interest- 
edly; "but  I  am  so  prejudiced  against  that  husband 
of  hers,  Tetsutaisho,  that  I  almost  dread  to  go." 

"But  she  is  so  disconsolate!     And,  poor  thing,  she 


An   Unexpected  Call  157 

is  jealous,  and  yet  so  wrapped  up  in  him.     I  wonder 
she  does  not  do  some  dreadful  thing." 

"I  presume  I  shall  have  to  go  there  or  not  see  her 
at  all." 

"She  seldom  goes  away  from  the  house,  and  when 
she  does  her  mother-in-law  goes  foremost,  you  can  be 
sure  of  that." 

"Well,  I  shall  manage  in  some  way  before  I  go, 
though  probably  it  will  not  be  until  later.  I  shall 
have  to  encounter  the  husband  first." 

"Oh,  do,  Shibusawa;  I  shall  be  so  glad,  and  I  know 
it  will  cheer  her  up.  You  remember  that  she  was 
always  so  fond  of  you,  and  you  may  be  able  to 
encourage  her.  Please  do  not  fail." 

"Very  well;  I  promise  you." 

Presently  Ikamon  came  toward  them,  and  the  con- 
versation was  changed  to  something  less  personal. 
Then  after  a  few  pleasantries  the  callers  began  to 
make  ready  to  take  leave. 

"I  dare  say,"  said  Ikamon,  adroitly,  as  they  were 
about  to  leave  the  house,  "Yasuko  has  enjoyed  this 
evening;  her  brother  is  seldom  absent  from  her  mind, 
and  did  I  not  share  the  same  good  trait  I  certainly 
should  be  a  little  jealous.  Yes,  sir;  we  think  of  you 
and  your  good  father  often,  and  we  regret  to  see  you 
going  so  far  away  from  us.  Yet  we  hope  that  the 
country  will  not  hold  you  long,  and  that  you  will  soon 
be  returning  to  the  capital,  where  you  are  so  exceed- 
ingly welcome,  and  so  illy  spared." 

While  it  pleased  Shibusawa  to  see  such  good  cheer 
and  hear  praise  bestowed  upon  his  father,  the  en- 
comium did  not  in  any  manner  carry  him  away  nor 
cause  him  to  suspect  the  giver;  he  merely  passed  it 
by  as  a  personal  trait,  without  any  regard  to  the  real 


158  Shibusawa 

source  of  its  apparent  emanation.  Secretly  he  had 
long  ago  determined  that  he  and  his  family,  or  any 
other,  would  be  courted  just  so  long  as  they  made 
themselves  worth  the  while.  He  appreciated  Ika- 
mon's  kindness  in  suggesting  the  entertainment,  and, 
regardless  of  the  motive  or  consequences,  proposed 
to  enjoy  such  benefits  as  were  of  right  his  portion,  so 
long  as  no  moral  or  material  right  was  infringed  upon. 

After  consulting  Maido's  convenience  as  to  the 
time  of  the  entertainment,  Ikamon  and  his  wife  with- 
drew amid  hearty  salutations  and  started  toward 
their  home.  The  sky  was  clear  and  the  moon  up  as 
they  sped  along  in  the  cool  of  night,  listening  to  the 
patter  of  the  carriers'  feet,  or  looking  out  upon  the 
world  of  beauty  around  them.  Theirs  was  a  happy 
contrast  with  those  less  fortunate,  for  —  even  in 
feudal  Japan  —  this  mighty  statesman  once  delved 
into  mother  earth  for  meagre  sustenance.  There,  too, 
the  lowly  rose  to  power  and  fame,  and,  as  the  great 
minister  leaned  back  under  the  golden  canopy  and 
sniffed  the  balmy  air  floating  in  at  the  open  sides,  he 
marvelled  at  his  own  success  and  swelled  with  pride 
at  his  extraordinary  rise. 

"It  is  the  power  of  logic  that  sends  men  on  their 
destined  way.  The  sway  of  chance  or  the  hand  of 
justice  has  little  to  do  with  the  mysteries  of  man's 
universe ;  it  is  the  certainty  of  the  thing  that  counts 
for  much.  The  success  makes  right,  and  Ikamon 
knows  no  wrong,"  said  he  to  himself  as  they  came 
close  to  their  gilded  mansion  and  a  hundred  tired 
backs  welcomed  the  small  relief. 

Ikamon  arose  and  stepped  out  of  the  tasselled  chair, 
and  stood  waiting  to  assist  Yasuko.  Ready  and 
willing  maids  had  already  spread  the  leopard  skin, 


An  Unexpected   Call  159 

and  as  she  thrust  forward  her  dainty,  white  stock- 
inged feet,  two  gold-lacquered  shoes  were  placed  for 
them.  Her  husband  extended  his  hand,  and  she 
arose,  gracefully  walking  toward  the  house  where  is 
known  "the  golden  crow"  and  "the  jewelled  hare," 
the  law's  luxury  and  man's  inheritance. 

The  prime  minister  drew  from  his  girdle  a  string  of 
"cash"  which  he  scattered,  and  a  horde  of  thankful 
underlings  scrambled  for  the  bounty.  He  too  en- 
tered the  privileged  house,  and  soon  after,  taking  his 
proper  leave,  retired  to  his  own  chamber,  where  he 
planned  and  schemed  the  grandest  geisha  party  that 
his  age  had  known. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE    GEISHA    PARTY 

THE  giving  of  a  geisha  party  such  as  Ikamon  pro- 
posed involved  no  small  amount  of  preparation 
and  entailed  much  thought  and  care,  yet  when  the 
"Harvest  Moon"  came — for  that  was  the  time  se- 
lected —  everything  had  been  gotten  in  readiness, 
and  Maido  and  his  family  occupied  their  booth,  sur- 
rounded by  all  that  luxury  and  refinement  could  offer 
to  still  the  cares  of  man  Shibusawa  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  the  occasion  with  every  possible  determina- 
tion to  do  his  part,  but  down  in  his  heart  there  lived 
a  yearning,  and  with  each  repeated  failure  came  a 
corresponding  hope  for  Kinsan.  He  had  sought  her 
long  and  earnestly,  and  now  grasped  at  each  straw. 
"Would  she,  could  she  be  there  that  night?  " 

The  young  prince  could  not  avoid  facing  Takara, 
who  sat  to  his  left,  across  the  big  auditorium,  and  each 
look  from  her  burned  into  him  a  still  deeper  sense  of 
his  ingratitude.  Tetsutaisho  occupied  an  adjoining 
booth,  and  no  color  in  Shibusawa's  cheek  escaped 
his  eye.  An  inner  consciousness  smote  him,  and  he 
looked  out  into  the  brilliant  scene  before  him  for 
relief. 

And  as  he  became  transported,  that  subtile,  elusive 
something  seemed  all  but  there,  for  the  geisha  party, 
the  universal  and  proper  form,  probably  fits  the  case 
quite  as  well  as  any  other  opera  or  means  devised  for 
the  diversion  of  mankind.  Here,  in  ancient  Japan, 

160 


The  Geisha  Party  161 

it  is  the  very  acme  of  united,  contributive  art,  and 
whether  the  affair  be  a  small  or  a  grand  one  matters 
not;  the  ever  festive  and  elastic  geisha  meets  the 
emergency.  If  but  the  modest  return  of  a  chance 
relation,  whereupon  the  trifling  consequences  of  a 
happy  trade  in  jack-knives  is  discussed,  or  if  it  be  the 
social  fete,  where  the  destinies  of  a  monarch  are 
framed  and  harangued,  the  geisha  party  is  the  occa- 
sion, and  it  stands  for  all  that  opportunity  may  or 
can  require.  No  demand  can  be  too  exacting,  no 
hope  too  flattering.  It  paves  the  way  to  good-fellow- 
ship, and  inspires  the  heart  to  nobler  deeds.  Ika- 
mon  chose  it  as  a  means  for  bringing  together  the 
best  in  the  land,  and  he  used  it  as  an  instrument 
to  touch  them,  to  sway  and  move  them. 

The  matter  of  finding  a  suitable  place  had  worried 
him,  and  going  in  person  to  all  of  the  noted  tea  houses, 
one  after  another,  he  discarded  them  as  being  inade- 
quate or  impracticable.  Ryogoku,  Tsukiji,  Asakusa, 
and  others  in  turn  were  visited,  and  none  offered 
suitable  accommodation.  His  wants  were  exacting, 
and  as  he  went  from  place  to  place  his  imagination 
grew  and  requirements  multiplied  beyond  all  hope  of 
fulfilment. 

Uyeno  pleased  him  most ;  here  he  found  at  least  an 
ideal  spot,  endowed  by  nature  with  all  that  is  lofty 
and  inspiring.  The  spacious  park  lay  upon  a  gently 
sloping  hillside,  terminating  in  a  high  promontory, 
jutting  out  over  the  nestling  roof  tops  far  below. 
From  the  quiet  of  its  level  there  stretched  away  to 
the  right,  to  the  left,  and  in  front,  a  million  earnest, 
faithful  homes.  The  glistening,  silvered  waters  in 
the  distance  had  again  and  again  marked  the  stately 
course  of  the  splendid  "Harvest  Moon"  in  her  on- 


1 62  Shibusawa 

ward  march  with  time,  while  from  the  background 
came  the  breathless  hush  of  the  forest,  the  silent 
mysteries  of  the  gloom,  the  awakening  of  the  spirit 
world.  He  returned  to  it  a  second  and  a  third  time, 
studied  the  situation  at  its  best,  then  decided. 

"The  'Harvest  Moon'  is  the  time,"  said  he,  with 
ecstasy,  "and  the  shogun's  command  will  amply 
build  the  playhouse.  I  shall  begin  without  delay." 

The  prime  minister  returned  to  his  home  much 
pleased  with  himself  and  fully  satisfied  with  his  op- 
portunities. True,  the  allotted  few  weeks  were  a 
short  time,  but  what  mattered  that  when  he  had  only 
to  advise  and  the  scene  of  his  intended  activities 
would  swarm  with  a  myriad  of  workers.  And  then 
the  applause  for  its  doing!  —  for  Ikamon  loved  gain, 
and  he  knew  of  no  surer  means  than  the  approval  of 
his  countrymen.  He  said  to  himself: 

"There  have  been  geisha  parties  before,  other  fetes 
of  note,  but  it  is  now  Ikamon's  turn.  Why  not  only 
outstrip  the  past,  but  anticipate  the  future?" 

In  consequence  the  necessary  work  was  begun  and 
the  party  launched  by  the  most  sweeping  and  un- 
heard of  orders.  As  in  the  matter  of  construction, 
the  invitations  had  been  issued  under  order  of  the 
shogun,  and  no  royal  personage  or  noble  blood  of  the 
sex  was  overlooked  or  neglected.  Messengers  de- 
spatched in  every  direction  had  set  moving  long  be- 
fore the  harvest  moon  had  risen  many  gorgeous  trains ; 
for  no  host  or  guest  in  that  land  was  held  in  better 
esteem  than  Maido,  the  lord  daimyo  of  Kanazawa. 
They  came  from  north  and  south,  from  the  loyal  and 
the  opposition,  fromkuge  and  bakufu.14  All  were  his 
friends,  and  none  would  miss  an  opportunity  to  enjoy 
the  hospitality  that  flowed  from  the  shogun's  seat 
like  balm  in  Gilead  or  wine  from  a  Circean  cup. 


The  Geisha  Party  163 

They  came,  and  when  they  had  arrived  they  beheld 
the  grandest  spectacle  that  they  had  ever  known. 
Many  thousands  had  laboured  hard  to  set  the  scene  and 
perfect  the  play.  Early  in  its  inception  Ikamon  had 
instructed  Tetsutaisho  as  to  his  portion;  whereupon 
the  responsive  commander  constructed  around  the 
plot  of  a  hundred  acres  a  living  wall,  in  which  each 
stone  was  a  trained  soldier  and  every  picket  a  sharp- 
ened steel. 

Such  a  massing  of  troops  had  never  before  been 
seen,  and  Tetsutaisho  had  not  only  girdled  the  festive 
place  with  a  brilliant  setting,  but  taught  those  lords 
and  barons  a  lesson  in  fanciful  show  that  convinced 
them  of  the  shogun's  effective  strength.  The  human 
fence  ended  only  at  either  side  of  the  promontory, 
whereat  gates  were  placed,  over  which  a  thousand 
blades  stood  guard.  No  force  could  pass  that  barrier. 
To  them  it  seemed  insurmountable  from  without  and 
impenetrable  from  within. 

Within  the  cordon  of  militia,  however,  the  real  won- 
ders of  the  place  began  to  unfold.  Passing  through 
the  gate  the  guests  were  taken  in  hand  and  ushered 
along  down  the  lines  of  dazzling  soldiery  toward  the 
lower  end  of  the  park,  where  stood  a  dark,  dense 
forest.  Here  they  suddenly  left  the  bright  lights  be- 
hind and  were  made  to  grope  their  way  through  the 
woods  to  the  yawning  entrance  of  an  underground 
cave.  Thence  through  its  gloomy  caverns  beset  with 
all  the  horrors  of  an  imagined  hades  they  hurried 
until  they  had  finally  emerged  into  the  brilliant  lights 
of  the  grand  auditorium. 

On  the  left  side  of  the  entrance  was  the  mikado's 
booth,  and  on  the  right  the  shogun's:  neither  was 
better  or  grander  than  the  other,  but  both  were  cov- 


164  Shibusawa 

ered  with  gorgeous  brocades  of  maple  leaves  and 
banked  with  solid  walls  of  chrysanthemums.  Col- 
oured lanterns  hung  between  the  pillars  in  front,  and 
open  windows  looked  out  at  the  back  upon  the  city 
below.  From  the  two  gala  booths  in  the  centre,  the 
royal  booths  stretched  out  on  either  side,  skirting  the 
brow  of  the  hill,  in  the  shape  of  a  crescent,  graduat- 
ing in  size  to  correspond  to  the  several  grades  of 
nobility.  To  the  stage  in  front  alternate  beds  of 
flowers  and  open  boxes,  with  here  and  there  a  mat- 
covered  aisle,  occupied  the  space.  The  boxes  were  laid 
with  soft  mats  and  lined  with  silk,  while  the  booths 
were  made  of  gold  or  black  lacquer,  with  tiger  or 
leopard  skins  on  the  floor,  as  suited  the  rank  of  the 
occupant. 

Shibusawa  looked  out  under  the  high  roof,  with  its 
thousand -tinted,  leaf -covered  cone,  emblazoned  with 
dazzling  lights  and  brilliant  foliage,  at  the  red- 
lacquered  stage,  festooned  with  wisteria  and  lined  with 
the  beautiful  bell-shaped  asagao.  The  guests  were 
already  seated  in  their  flowing  robes  of  silk  and  pur- 
ple amid  garlands  of  flowers  and  booths  of  gold,  and 
the  players  began  to  make  their  appearance. 

Three  hundred  geisha  singers  dressed  in  flaming 
uniforms,  wearing  costly  jewels  in  their  hair,  came 
first,  seating  themselves  in  three  rows  across  the  front 
of  the  stage,  with  the  samisens15  first,  the  kokyus16  next, 
and  the  kotos  last.  Next  after  these  came  nine  hun- 
dred geisha  dancers,  who  ranked  in  lines  at  both  sides 
and  at  the  rear  of  the  stage.  After  them  one  hun- 
dred geisha  singers,  whose  simple  coiffures  and  free- 
dom from  ornamentation  bespoke  their  purity,  came 
in  and  grouped  themselves  in  the  centre  of  the  stage. 
All  held  themselves  in  readiness  to  begin  the  play. 


The  Geisha  Party  165 

Presently  the  music  began  in  faint,  weird  strains,  and 
as  the  time  quickened  the  dancers  began  to  sway, 
and  as  the  pitch  rose  the  singers  began  to  chant ;  and 
when  all  seemed  a  living,  moving,  sounding  picture, 
the  ranks  parted  and  down  between  them  softly 
stepped  a  maiden  whose  charm  and  ease  of  manner 
made  breathless  the  waiting  listeners. 

As  she  approached  the  centre  of  the  stage,  the 
music  lowered,  the  dancers  slowed,  and  the  singers 
gradually  stopped;  then  her  voice  began  its  soft,  en- 
chanting notes.  Every  man  leaned  forward  speech- 
less; and  as  she  sang  her  song  of  love  they  were 
thrilled  with  the  wondrous  message  of  her  heart.  In 
that  vast  audience  there  was  one  who  understood  the 
language  of  her  pathos,  who  communed  with  her  soul. 

It  was  Shibusawa;  and  not  words,  but  actions  re- 
vealed the  secret  of  his  feelings.  He  sat  in  his  booth, 
leaning  over,  and  silent.  He  did  not  grieve,  nor  ex- 
ult, but  sat  there  a  dweller  in  another  world.  It  was 
one  from  the  spirit  land  with  whom  he  spoke.  She 
told  him  she  loved  him;  her  voice,  not  words  carried 
the  message,  spoke  the  language  of  her  soul.  He 
listened,  and  when  the  farewell  came  would  have 
gone  to  her,  thrown  himself  at  her  feet,  had  not  his 
strength  failed  him.  He  hesitated,  and  upon  regain- 
ing his  composure  Kinsan  had  gone  —  he  knew  not 
where. 

Tetsutaisho  sat  near  Shibusawa,  and  he  too  felt 
the  force  of  her  great  melody,  and  knew  that  some 
inward  action  moved  her.  He  had  long  before 
guessed  her  secret,  and  Shibusawa 's  strange  emotion 
now  impressed  him.  Instinctively  connecting  the 
two,  though  holding  his  own  counsel,  he  knew  from 
that  day  who  his  rival  was,  and  he  felt  that  her  song 


1 66  Shibusawa 

had  won  for  her  its  reward.  He  chided  himself  for 
having  yielded  to  Ikamon's  entreaty,  and  wished 
that  he  had  denied  even  his  best  friend  the  favour  of 
her  loan.  It  was  now  too  late.  The  mistake  had 
been  made  beyond  rectifying. 

Kinsan  had  not  observed  Shibusawa,  or  at  least 
did  not  distinguish  him  in  the  audience,  but  sang 
purely  and  simply  from  her  heart.  No  incentive 
moved  her,  nor  did  she  heed  the  elegance,  or  feel  the 
great  honour  she  had  gained.  She  was  conscious  of 
only  one,  and  in  another  world  poured  out  her  soul's 
desire ;  and  thus  without  being  aware  of  it  brought  to 
her  feet -the  noble,  royal  sons  of  a  nation,  made  them 
her  slaves,  and  went  forth  from  that  scene  the  most 
famed  of  her  sex. 

Thenceforth  it  was  "Kinsan,  The  Nightingale," 
and  she  bore  well  the  sobriquet. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE    UNHAPPY    MEETING 

THE  beautiful  song  of  the  unknown  star  had 
stimulated  the  most  hearty  good  cheer,  and  the 
playing,  feasting,  and  conversation  did  not  wane  until 
a  late  hour.  And  when  the  festivities  had  ended, 
Ikamon  was  accounted  the  prince  of  entertainers; 
while  Shibusawa  confronted  a  new  danger. 

When  the  guests  had  gone  home  his  father  began 
making  preparations  to  go  to  Kanazawa.  Mai  do, 
pleased  with  the  reception  accorded  him,  felt  highly 
complimented  for  his  long  and  faithful  services  at  the 
capital.  He  deemed  it  a  fitting  finale  to  what  he  con- 
sidered the  close  of  his  active  public  career,  and  the 
honour  seemed  to  him  a  splendid  reward.  And  now 
that  so  much  had  been  done  by  his  friends  in  apprecia- 
tion of  his  services  and  in  recognition  of  his  retire- 
ment, he  believed  himself  in  duty  bound  to  show  his 
proper  regard  by  making  his  exit  as  elaborate  as  his 
circumstances  would  permit.  Therefore  he  called 
his  son  to  him  and  said : 

"Shibusawa,  we  have  been  honoured  at  the  hands 
of  our  friends  and  especially  are  we  under  obligation 
to  the  court.  Let  us  be  equally  generous  in  our  with- 
drawal from  life  at  the  capital,  and  depart  with  a 
procession  that  will  show  due  appreciation,  and  de- 
clare our  loyalty  to  his  august  highness.  We  have 
always  been  modest  in  our  pretensions,  and  I  believe 
that  some  such  demonstration  would  not  be  unfitting 

167 


1 68  Shibusawa 

or  beneath  the  dignity  of  our  station.  What  do  you 
say,  my  son?" 

"If  it  is  your  pleasure,  I  certainly  can  see  no  valid 
objection.  We  need  not  be  ashamed  of  such  show- 
ing as  we  can  make,  and  real  display  is  sometimes  a 
good  promoter  and  always  a  splendid  encouragement. 
What  can  I  do  to  be  of  service?" 

"  Please  consider  yourself  my  guest;  that  will  better 
suit  me,  since  it  may  be  my  last  opportunity.  Once 
the  young  get  a  good  hold,  there  is  little  chance  for  the 
fathers.  Let  me  do  the  thing  once  more,  then  sur- 
render to  you.  The  last  is  the  greater." 

"Very  well,  if  you  like,  Shibusawa  will  obey; 
there  is  no  greater  pleasure,  nor  higher  honour." 

Shibusawa  not  only  wished  to  please  his  father 
but  was  glad  for  the  opportunity  to  occupy  himself  in 
another  way.  Since  his  startling  discovery  of  Kinsan 
he  had  resolved  to  find  her  and  claim  her,  whatever 
might  be  the  cost.  He  reasoned  that  his  agitation 
upon  seeing  Kinsan  on  the  stage  would  be  passed  as 
merely  an  incident,  and  that  no  explanation  would 
be  required;  and  that  he  take  no  steps  that  might 
involve  his  family,  he  deemed  it  advisable  to  keep  his 
own  counsel  until,  if  necessary,  developments  neces- 
sitated some  sort  of  disclosure.  Tetsutaisho  had 
said  nothing,  and  in  consequence  Shibusawa  did  not 
know  of  any  suspicion  on  his  part;  and  being  en- 
tirely unaware  of  Kinsan's  residence  he  had,  of  course, 
no  reason  whatever  to  suppose  that  she  was  domiciled 
at  his  brother-in-law's  house.  His  idolised  queen  had 
appeared  to  him  as  if  in  a  vision,  and  the  more  he 
pondered  the  situation  the  more  deeply  he  became 
perplexed. 

And  as  the  days  rapidly  passed  and  his  allotted 


The   Unhappy   Meeting  169 

time  shortened,  Shibusawa  began  to  grow  nervous 
and  despair  of  his  mission.  All  his  friends  with  whom 
he  could  discuss  the  new  prima  donna  were  even 
more  than  he  in  the  dark;  they  had  never  heard  of 
her  and  like  himself  could  get  no  information  as  to 
where  she  could  even  be  found.  He  rightly  re- 
frained from  saying  anything  to  Ikamon,  the  only 
person  besides  Tetsutaisho  who  could  have  informed 
him;  and  even  had  he  approached  him  he  would 
have  received  no  encouragement,  for  the  prime  min- 
ister had  promised  faithfully  to  keep  her  identity  a 
secret.  From  day  to  day  the  disconsolate  young 
prince  went  from  friend  to  friend  and  place  to  place 
discussing  the  crowning  feature  of  the  big  event,  in 
hope  of  getting  some  bit  of  information  that  would 
serve  as  a  clue.  In  geisha  circles  they  were  equally 
mystified,  and  from  that  source  no  encouragement 
could  be  offered.  He  became  disheartened,  though 
more  than  ever  resolved. 

The  time  for  his  departure  from  the  city  had  al- 
ready arrived,  and  before  going  he  set  out  to  make 
his  sister,  Yasuko,  a  parting  call.  While  there,  she 
for  a  second  time  cautioned  him  about  his  going  to  see 
Nehachibana;  whereupon  he  promised  forthwith  to 
go  and  bid  his  favourite  sister  farewell,  even  though 
he  had  not  as  yet  made  up  his  mind  to  forgive  or  be- 
come friendly  with  her  husband.  Shortening  his 
visit  with  Yasuko,  accordingly,  he  kept  his  promise 
and  immediately  went  to  call  upon  Nehachibana. 

It  was  a  gloomy  day,  and  the  clouds  hung  low  and 
drove  cold  the  chill  of  autumn.  The  dusk  of  night 
already  overshadowed  the  earth  and  he  felt  uneasy, 
much  disliking  to  disturb  even  his  sister  at  so  late  an 
hour;  yet  he  knew  that  it  would  be  his  only  chance, 


1 70  Shibusawa 

for  on  the  morrow  he  must  make  ready  to  take  his 
departure.  As  he  approached  the  house  no  one 
greeted  him;  he  hesitated;  resolving  to  meet  her  if 
possible,  he  pressed  forward,  making  known  his  desire 
to  see  Nehachibana,  his  sister. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait,  however,  for  she  came  in 
person  and  greeting  him  warmly  bade  him  enter  the 
house  and  sit  in  her  own  chamber.  Here  they  sat 
and  sat,  he  listening,  and  she  pouring  out  her  troubles 
—  it  had  been  her  first  opportunity  in  all  those  pent- 
up  years.  Again  and  again  they  had  drained  their 
teacups  when,  flushed  and  excited,  she  said: 

"Yes,  there  is  a  son,  and  you  must  know  its  mother. 
I  will  show  it  to  you  and  then  you  can  better  appre- 
ciate my  terrible  sorrow.  Oh,  I  cannot  bear  it 
longer!  It  will  kill  me,  and  yet  it  is  no  fault  of  mine. 
I  have  been  a  dutiful  wife,  and  I  have  the  only  right 
to  be  the  mother  of  his  children.  Tell  me,  Shibusawa, 
my  brother,  is  there  no  help  for  woman?" 

"It  is  the  law  of  the  land,  Nehachibana,  and  as 
long  as  it  is  such,  it  is  our  duty  to  abide  by  its  decree." 

"But  the  law  is  so  unjust!  " 

"The  injustice  is  in  the  making  of  it.  But  there, 
now,  let  us  not  discuss  that  any  further.  You  have 
done  your  part,  and  I  will  venture  it  is  better  a  hus- 
band whom  you  love,  than  a  wife  who  loves  your 
husband.  Come,  now,  when  shall  I  expect  you  to 
pay  us  a  visit  in  the  country?" 

"I  wish  you  were  not  going  so  far.  I  am  seldom 
allowed  such  a  privilege,  and  were  I  —  oh,  that 
other  one!  I  should  never  give  her  the  satisfaction. 
I  hate  her!  I  love  —  oh,  I  dare  not,  I  cannot  go  away! 
Come  with  me,  now,  won't  you?  I  want  you  to  see  — 
to  see  with  your  own  eyes  —  I  shall  have  revenge! " 


The   Unhappy   Meeting  171 

"But  you  must  not,  my  dear  Nehachibana.  It 
is  not  she  that  has  wronged  you;  and  it  is  a  terrible 
thing  to  misjudge.  Better  suffer  the  wrong;  the 
charity  will  repay  you  the  sacrifice." 

"Then  look,  as  I  have  done  these  many  days,  and 
you  will  know  better  a  woman's  way.  It  is  an  image 
of  the  devil,  and  its  eyes  rivet  me.  Come?" 

"To  please  you,  Nehachibana." 

Nehachibana  arose  and  stealthily  disappeared;  in 
a  few  moments  she  returned  and,  scarcely  speaking 
above  a  whisper,  bade  Shibusawa  follow.  Guiding 
him  through  several  rooms,  into  a  long  passageway, 
thence  to  a  chamber  out  of  which  a  soft  light  shone 
through  the  frail  paper  partition,  she  cautioned  him, 
then  pushed  back  the  slide  a  little  and  beckoned  him 
approach.  Kinsan  sat  in  deep  thought  near  a  small 
screen,  with  the  child  fondled  in  her  lap,  and  for  the 
moment  did  not  observe  their  entrance.  She  had 
often  been  intruded  upon  in  such  a  manner  and  there- 
fore paid  little  heed.  Perhaps  she  meditated  the 
night  of  her  debut  upon  the  stage;  or  she  may  have 
been  thinking  of  another  time  when  all  the  world 
seemed  glorified  to  her.  The  visitors  approached, 
however,  and  their  stockinged  feet  made  hardly  any 
noise  on  the  soft,  matted  floor.  They  came  at  Kin- 
san's  back,  partly  sidewise,  and  when  not  too  far 
away  Nehachibana  clutched  at  Shibusawa's  kimono 
and  pointing  her  bony  finger  at  the  child,  leaned  for- 
ward and  said,  almost  breathlessly: 

"It  is  he!" 

She  trembled  violently,  and  her  eyes  stared  wildly 
as  they  came  in  contact  with  the  child.  Until  Ne- 
hachibana spoke,  Kinsan  had  not  recognised  them, 
nor  would  she  then  have  done  so  had  not  Shibusawa 


172  Shibusawa 

sprung  forward  to  save  Nehachibana  from  falling  as 
she  reeled  and  lost  her  balance.  Shibusawa  had  re- 
cognised Kinsan  the  moment  Nehachibana  spoke,  and 
it  was  a  hard  struggle  for  him  to  refrain  from  speak- 
ing to  her.  His  whole  being  bade  him  respond  to  an 
overpowering  impulse,  but  sober  thought  checked 
him,  and  he  grasped  at  an  opportunity  to  turn  his 
back  by  leading  Nehachibana  away. 

This  movement,  however,  did  not  serve  to  shield 
him,  for  before  he  had  entirely  turned  about  Kinsan 
saw  his  face  and  knew  him,  and  sprang  to  her  feet, 
while  the  child  fell  to  the  floor.  Though  her  very 
being  flamed  she  did  not  follow,  but  stood  speech- 
less and  helpless ;  there  was  no  force  to  move  her.  She 
waited,  and  presently  he  returned. 

Shibusawa  led  his  sister  back  to  her  apartment 
and  left  her  under  promise  that  she  would  try  to  re- 
gain her  composure  and  remain  there  until  he  came 
for  her.  He  told  her  that  he  desired  to  meet  the 
child's  mother  privately,  but  would  return  to  her  in  a 
short  time. 

Nehachibana  said  nothing  to  relieve  her  brother's 
mind.  She  knew  in  her  own  heart  that  Kinsan  was 
not  the  mother  of  the  child,  yet  she  did  not  speak. 
He,  of  course,  took  it  for  granted  that  the  child  was 
hers.  He  got  only  a  glance,  but  saw  in  its  eyes  a 
familiar  image;  also  in  that  he  was  misinformed. 
Had  it  been  a  woman  who  saw,  she  would  not  have 
made  so  grave  a  mistake;  reason  is  sometimes  the 
victim  of  deception;  intuition,  never. 

As  he  returned,  he  judged.  Every  step  deadened 
his  feelings  and  each  thought  blinded  his  reason.  He 
conjured  her  false,  and  made  himself  the  victim. 
He  re-entered  the  room,  sternly  and  deliberately;  she 


Kinsan  sat  in  deep  thought     .     .     .     with  the  child  fondled  in  her  lap. 


The   Unhappy   Meeting  173 

stood  there,  hopeful  and  expectant.  As  he  stepped 
inside  she  came  forward,  but  before  reaching  him 
stopped  and  bowed  in  silence;  she  had  divined  his 
heart  and  read  correctly  the  message.  The  child 
cried  playfully,  and  she  blushed  deeply  and  con- 
fusedly. She  realised  fully  the  possible  consequences 
of  its  being  there,  and  would  have  hastened  to  explain 
had  he  given  her  the  opportunity ;  on  the  contrary  he 
approached  and  said  calmly,  but  coldly: 

"Kinsan,  I  would  like  a  word  with  you,  if  you  will 
so  permit  me." 

She  raised  her  hands  and  looked  at  him  with  plead- 
ing, earnest  eyes,  but  he  made  no  offer  to  meet  her. 
His  arms  hung  limp,  and  his  look  fell  to  the  floor.  She 
waited  for  him  to  recover,  to  deign  some  word  or  act 
of  encouragement.  Perhaps  he  battled  for  power; 
perhaps  he  accused  her.  He  made  no  sign,  and  she 
recovered  herself  and  calmly  asked  him: 

"Will  you  please  be  seated? 

They  sat  down  upon  the  clean  white  floor;  the 
child  lay  coaxing  in  front  of  them.  Neither  offered 
a  remark,  but  both  sat  in  serious  contemplation.  It 
was  he  who  first  attempted  to  break  the  silence,  and  as 
he  ventured  to  speak  the  partition  in  front  slid  back  with 
a  jerk,  and  Tetsutaisho  walked  forward  and  bowed. 

"I  trust  I  am  not  intruding,"  said  he,  as  he  waited 
for  Shibusawa  to  arise. 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  said  the  younger  of  the 
two,  rising  and  drawing  his  kimono  about  him.  "It 
is  I  who  seem  to  be  unwelcome.  Therefore  please 
grant  me  the  privilege  of  retiring." 

"As  you  like,"  said  the  other,  with  an  air  of  dis- 
interestedness and  a  low  bow.  "Tetsutaisho  wel- 
comes his  friends,  always." 


174  Shibusawa 

"And  Shibusawa  recognises  his  enemies,  now  and 
then,"  retorted  he  with  a  courteous  bow,  as  he  grace- 
fully withdrew  from  their  presence. 

Shibusawa  hurried  back  to  Nehachibana's  room 
where  he  found  her  sitting  and  staring  into  space. 
Her  features  were  expressionless,  and  her  toilet 
showed  a  carelessness  which  until  now  had  escaped 
his  notice.  He  said  a  few  kindly  words  to  her,  and 
retiring,  hastened  toward  his  own  home.  She  paid 
little  heed  to  what  he  said,  and  when  he  warmly  gave 
her  a  parting  farew2ll  she  blankly  answered : 

"Sayonara."  17 

The  disconsolate  young  man  went  home  with  a 
sadder  heart  and  firmer  determination  than  ever.  He 
was  fully  convinced  that  Kinsan  had  been  untrue, 
yet  in  charity  he  charged  her  failure  to  the  law's 
barrier.  At  first  he  had  been  stunned,  and  his  love 
momentarily  wavered ;  but  as  he  gained  freedom  and 
more  carefully  reflected,  his  heart  withstood  the  test 
and  his  mind  regained  its  composure;  and  when  he 
arose  the  next  morning  he  set  himself  to  his  task  with 
a  will  that  knows  no  better  victory  than  constancy. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

DAIMYO'S    PROCESSION 

THE  final  preparations  for  the  gorgeous  proces- 
sion progressed  without  interruption  all  of  the 
next  day,  notwithstanding  a  light  rain  fell  almost  in- 
cessantly, and  Shibusawa,  at  least,  regretted  though 
encouraged  a  speedy  going.  He  must  on  the  very 
eve  of  Kinsan's  discovery  part  with  what  seemed  to 
be  the  last  hope  of  ever  realising  his  life's  ambition. 
And  she  the  property  of  his  bitterest  enemy !  Some- 
times it  seemed  more  than  he  could  bear ;  but  a  recur- 
ring sense  of  the  inevitable  always  stayed  the  doing 
of  some  rash  thing,  and  long  before  the  evening  had 
passed  friends  were  calling  to  bid  the  family  good-bye. 

As  night  came  on,  however,  the  rain  ceased,  and 
the  weather  began  to  clear  under  a  stiff  breeze  blow- 
ing from  the  eastward.  It  was  a  chill  October  night, 
the  leaves  were  falling,  and  the  white  clouds  sped  low 
in  the  sky.  The  sun  had  fringed  the  western  horizon 
with  a  snowy -fleeced  red,  and  Shibusawa  stepped  to 
the  outer  edge  of  his  veranda  to  take  a  parting  glimpse 
of  the  golden  scene  spread  over  the  hills  above.  He 
could  not  see  the  site  of  the  hidden  cave,  but  his  eyes 
moistened;  he  turned  away  and  looked  toward  the 
lake  below. 

There  he  saw  emerging  from  a  cluster  of  bushes 
Okyo,  tugging  along  a  coy  maiden,  whose  dress  and 
appearance  signified  that  she  did  not  belong  to  the 
castle;  yet  he  observed  her  neat  and  modest  appear- 


1 76  Shibusawa 

ance ;  also  that  Okyo  endeavoured  with  difficulty  to 
induce  her  to  approach.  Shibusawa  drew  back  and 
waited  their  coming  with  amusement,  if  not  interest. 

Presently  they  came  near,  and  after  much  consul- 
tation and  persuasion  on  Okyo's  part  they  entered 
the  house  and  groped  their  way  hand  in  hand  —  he 
pulling  and  she  shying  —  into  Shibusawa 's  presence. 
Okyo  saluted  his  master,  she  courtesied;  between 
them  they  stammered  an  explanation,  and  the  host 
begged  forgiveness  for  the  unseemly  confusion  of 
identities. 

"And  this  is  Shiyoganai,  the  pretty  young  girl 
whom  we  rescued  while  guests  at  the  Look-See  tea 
house.  Let  us  see,  that  is  several  years  ago,  and  I 
am  afraid  our  claim  is  now  more  than  forfeited. 
However,  I  suppose  the  double  is  fancied  and  the  bar- 
gain might  be  renewed,"  said  the  young  prince,  in  a 
manner  intended  to  place  them  at  ease,  and  save  the 
direct  embarrassment  of  a  possible  recognition. 

The  unexpected  rather  upset  Okyo,  and  a  feeling 
somewhat  akin  to  fright  suddenly  came  over  him.  He 
said  nothing ;  his  voice  failed  him,  and  hanging  his  head 
he  partly  turned  and  whispered  : 

"You  tell  it,  Shiyoganai;  I  can't." 

She  blushed  deeply,  and  told  the  story  of  how  Okyo 
had  again  met  her  after  his  venture  upon  the  sea  and 
with  his  meagre  assistance  saved  her  from  being  sold 
a  second  time,  possibly  into  something  worse  than 
slavery.  She  added  with  much  hesitation  that  they 
had  dearly  loved  each  other  for  a  long  time,  and 
asked  him  to  be  so  kind  as  to  let  Okyo  come  back 
sometime  to  see  her. 

"Tell  him  that  I  want  to  marry  you,"  interposed 
her  would-be  suitor,  boldly. 


Daimyo's  Procession  177 

"And  are  you  both  quite  sure  you  wish  to  take  so 
serious  a  step?" 

"Oh,  yes,  we  are,"  said  they  in  chorus,  scarcely 
the  words  left  his  lips. 

"Then  you  shall  marry  and  welcome,  for  I  shall 
want  you  to  remain  here  with  the  keeper  until  I 
return." 

Shibusawa  tendered  Okyo  the  funds  necessary  to 
make  settlement  with  her  parents  and  bade  them 
expedite  the  marriage,  as  he  must  move  early  on  the 
morrow  and  should  certainly  expect  them  to  be  punc- 
tually on  hand.  Nor  did  they  waste  time ,  but  hurriedly 
saluted  and  were  not  seen  again  until  late  the  next 
morning,  when  Shiyoganai  came  trudging  in,  was  for- 
given and  seemed  happy. 

The  daimyo's  procession  had  started  to  move  be- 
times, and  was  well  on  the  way  before  the  streets  had 
quieted  down  for  the  midday.  The  parade  had  been 
so  well  noised  about  that  the  roads  were  everywhere 
lined  with  the  interested  and  the  curious.  Flags  and 
bunting  were  displayed  and  many  shops  had  been 
closed  in  honour  of  the  event.  By  common  consent  the 
occasion  had  been  turned  into  a  general  holiday  in 
honour  of  the  man  whose  sympathy  had  endeared 
him  to  both  prince  and  pauper  alike;  and  as  the 
pageant  moved  along  there  was  presented  to  view  a 
strikingly  imposing  scene. 

Over  forty  thousand  men  were  in  line,  and  among 
them  many  dignitaries,  who  had  been  invited  and 
who  chanced  to  join  as  a  mark  of  respect  and  an  act 
of  loyalty.  The  swordsmen,  under  the  command  of 
Beppu,  a  trusted  officer  of  the  daimyo's  forces, 
marched  in  the  lead ;  after  these  came  the  spearsmen ; 
then  the  fieldsmen ;  and  then  the  courtiers,  retainers, 


178  Shibusawa 

members  of  the  household,  servants,  criers,  and 
hangers-on.  Groups  of  knightly  heralds,  in  costumes 
of  white  and  gold,  carried  high,  massive  plumes  of 
green  and  brown;  there  were  couriers  with  flaming 
banners,  gorgeous  floats,  flags,  streamers,  and  bunting; 
huge  grotesque  figures  and  other  monstrosities  wab- 
bled along  on  human  backs,  while  gilded  poles  and 
clever  symbols  lined  the  imposing  column.  Gaudy 
uniforms  and  costly  dress  told  of  the  wealth  and 
pomp  that  followed  in  the  splendid  train,  and  the 
great  chairs  of  state  bespoke  Maido's  power  and  the 
splendour  of  his  suite.  On  the  door  at  either  side  of 
these  rich  palanquins  shone  the  family  crest,  worked 
into  the  beautiful  lacqxier  with  finely  threaded  gold 
and  silver,  in  the  design  of  five  circles  around  ten 
short  rays  representing  sword  punctures.  The 
daimyo's  chair  came  first  in  line,  then  Shibusawa's. 
After  all  the  rest  there  followed  long  trains  laden  with 
baggage  and  paraphernalia  belonging  to  the  house- 
hold and  retainers  of  the  family. 

The  procession  moved  in  double  file  along  the  old 
Tokaido,  the  deep-worn  and  hard-packed  highway 
with  its  tall  cedars  and  interlocking  branches  on 
either  side.  Here  they  travelled  in  solemn  grandeur 
as  their  ancestors  of  a  thousand  years  had  done,  and 
Maido  marvelled  at  the  beauty  of  the  ceremony  and 
thought  with  pride  of  the  splendour  of  his  retinue. 
His  army  was  counted  legion  and  his  income  over  a 
million  koku,18  while  the  doors  of  nobility  were  open 
to  him  and  royalty  pleased  with  his  friendship.  He 
had  in  effect  just  closed  a  brilliant  career,  and  his  own 
son  about  to  succeed  him  he  believed  capable  of  win- 
ning new  laurels  —  why  should  he  not  swell  with 
satisfaction  as  he  rode  along  beneath  the  shade  of 
these  giants  of  the  forest  ? 


Daimyo's  Procession  179 

Shibusawa,  on  the  other  hand,  had  begun  to  take 
a  deeper  hold  on  life.  He  had  seen  the  world,  and 
felt  keenly  the  narrow  pride  which  the  lords  and 
rulers  of  his  land  boasted. 

He  knew  their  tiny  empire  to  be  a  beauteous  land, 
and  he  also  knew  that  it  had  been  discovered;  that 
there  were  other  people  from  whom  the  good  things 
of  the  earth  could  not  be  kept.  He  also  realised  that 
they  themselves  had  much  to  profit  by  the  larger 
intercourse  certainly  to  come,  and  that  they,  too,  with 
all  their  excellence  were  far  from  being  perfect  in  the 
scale  of  social  organisation.  He  had  seen  sufficient 
of  life  and  imbibed  enough  of  truth  to  understand 
that  so  long  as  inequality  exists  between  men  just  so 
long  will  the  state  remain  flexible;  and  he  realised 
that  such  a  government  must  necessarily  adapt  itself 
to  natural  conditions.  He  had  looked  out  into  the 
world  and  there  beheld  the  glory  of  man,  not  men; 
and  he  now  believed  in  man's  regeneration  as  born  of 
progression. 

They  tramped  on  day  after  day  in  their  only 
fashion,  and  when  they  finally  did  arrive  at  their  own 
gate  Shibusawa  sprang  from  his  chair  and  amid  the 
shouts  of  the  men  ran  on  at  double  the  speed.  For 
this  he  was  held  in  high  esteem  and  accounted  one  of 
their  kind,  though  some  of  the  dignitaries  may  have 
been  a  little  surprised  at  the  young  prince's  demo- 
cracy. While  Maido,  out  of  deference  to  his  station, 
said  nothing,  at  least  he  really  rejoiced,  for  he  loved 
a  good  sprinter  and  had  actually  winked  at  more  than 
one  wrestling  match  in  his  day. 

"I  would  get  out  and  go  you  a  bout  myself,  were  it 
not  for  shocking  the  household  keeper's  sensibilities," 
said  he  to  his  son,  quietly,  as  the  latter  was  about  to 


180  Shibusawa 

leave  his  chair  for  the  coveted  run  through  the  woods 
and  over  the  hills. 

Shibusawa 's  fleetness  brought  him,  before  many 
hours  had  passed,  to  the  selfsame  gate  behind  which 
most  of  his  boyhood  days  had  been  spent.  He  drew 
a  deep  breath  as  he  entered,  and  while  walking  along 
the  old  winding  road  to  the  main  front  he  said  to  him- 
self: 

"What  is  sweeter  and  better  than  the  environment 
of  early  home?" 

He  immediately,  upon  entering,  set  himself  to 
work  directing  a  few  added  touches  that  would  please 
and  encourage  his  father's  home-coming.  Such 
trifling  attentions  he  accounted  a  great  pleasure,  and 
as  he  grew  older  in  appreciation  of  a  parent's  tender- 
ness he  lost  no  opportunity  to  show  his  affectionate 
esteem.  Nor  did  he  misplace  even  one,  for  Mai  do 
in  his  way  repaid  the  trouble  many  fold. 

When  they  had  arrived  at  Kanazawa,  the  season 
had  so  far  advanced  that  they  at  once  settled  down 
for  the  winter.  Though  disappointed  in  not  being 
able  to  visit  other  parts  of  the  prefecture,  they  took 
much  satisfaction  in  the  quiet  of  their  country  house, 
and  Magokoro  (the  real  or  red  heart,  or  maple  leaves) 
smiled  sweetly  and  soon  the  snow  fell  beautifully. 
They  did  not  lack  for  plenty  to  do  and  see,  and  when 
once  settled  there  was  much  company,  for  Maido  had 
been  gone  for  a  long  time  and  his  neighbours  were  not 
only  glad  at  having  seen  him  return,  but  some  of  the 
mikado's  court,  not  far  distant,  were  interested  in 
knowing  the  reason. 

Nor  was  Takara  disinterested,  though  she  did  not 
call.  And  a  certain  prince  who  had  once  upon  a 
time  been  deeply  in  love  with  her  and  who  was  still 


Daimyo's  Procession  181 

quite  attentive,  manifested  more  than  an  interest;  he 
was  anxious,  and  upon  Shibusawa's  return  he  at  first 
took  it  upon  himself  to  visit  Kanazawa  rather  often. 
Aside  from  these  personal  attractions,  the  south 
brewed  a  storm  that  was  destined  to  spread  until  it 
had  claimed  the  attention  of  some  persons  even  much 
farther  north  than  Kanazawa.  Thus  plenty  both  of 
interest  and  variety  engaged  Maido,  nor  would  Shi- 
busawa  flinch  from  his  part. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

SHIBUSAWA    RECLAIMED 

IT  was  now  some  considerable  time  since  Takara 
had  been  spirited  by  the  ronin  from  Tokyo  to 
Kyoto,  where  she  had  gone  into  seclusion  at  her 
mother's  house  and  so  remained.  The  gaiety  at 
court  had  little  attraction  for  her,  and  she  under- 
took to  devote  herself  to  a  new  life  which  should 
atone  for  all  past  failures.  She  had  had  her  trial  with 
men,  and  placing  them  all  in  the  same  category  under- 
took to  discard  them  as  so  much  rubbish. 

One  day  while  discussing  the  matter  with  Daiko- 
mitsu  she  said  to  him : 

"They  are  disappointing  and,  I  believe,  a  burden  to 
the  real  woman.  No,  Daikomitsu,  you  could  not  have 
me,  were  I  free  and  you  made  of  gold.  I  prefer  an- 
other kind  of  happiness." 

"You  do  not  mean  what  you  say,  Takara.  You 
are  chafing  a  bit  under  the  weight  of  your  misfor- 
tunes. You  have  my  sympathy  and  my  love  too, 
if  you  will." 

"I  have  a  husband." 

"And  of  what  sort  ?    I  vow  not  of  your  own  choice." 

"A  woman  has  no  choice." 

"Nor  should  she;  nor  would  she,  had  I  the  say." 

"Thanks.  I  understand  there  are  some  would-be 
friends  who  are  interested  in  all  that  goes  with  feudal- 
ism except  the  inheritance.  You  might  have  that, 
were  you  as  clever  as  they." 

182 


Shibusawa  Reclaimed  183 

"I  belong  to  the  literati." 

"Oh,  you  do?  It  is  strange;  I  had  heard  nothing 
of  that  since  you  were  here  last.  I  trust  it  will  not 
get  noised  around  too  much  —  Ikamon  might  hear  it." 

"Well?" 

"He  is  worth  the  while." 

"Tetsutaisho's  the  better  man.     I  like  him." 

"Then  he  has  told  you?" 

"You  seem  agitated.  I  hope  you  do  not  count  him 
one  of  the  new  school.  Though  he  is  close  to  Ika- 
mon, I  will  admit." 

"No;  I  had  another  thing  in  mind.  Go  on  with 
your  talk.  The  mood  is  a  modest  one." 

"I'll  trust  you,  though  it  were  better  a  man  kept 
his  own  counsel." 

"Daikomitsu?     Ha,  ha;  how  egotistical!" 

"And  you  really  love  me?" 

"No." 

"Then  you  hate  me." 

"No." 

"What  chance  is  there  between  hate  and  love?" 

"It  is  there  that  I  would  trust  a  woman." 

Daikomitsu  was  pleased  to  have  an  opportunity  to 
unfold  his  plans  to  somebody,  and  no  one  seemed  to 
have  more  patience  than  Takara.  Even  her  willing- 
ness seemed  an  encouragement  to  him.  It  did  not 
count  that  she  used  him  as  a  means  of  escape  from 
others,  for  he  had  grown  up  in  the  same  easy  atmos- 
phere and  loved  her  from  early  boyhood.  He  al- 
ways would  love  her.  It  mattered  not  that  she  had 
been  married  to  another  or  that  she  might  marry  still 
others,  he  should  love  her  just  the  same.  Time 
might  have  wrought  its  changes,  but  not  the  even 
tenor  of  Daikomitsu's  way. 


184  Shibusawa 

Portly  and  of  average  height,  his  face  smooth- 
shaved  and  head  somewhat  bald,  a  goodly  measure  of 
royal  blood  coursed  in  his  veins,  and  he  was  accounted 
a  prince  of  high  rank.  Being  a  devotee  of  that  classic 
school  which  grew  up  around  Nara,  and  an  ardent 
supporter  of  letters,  he  had  gained  a  high  standing 
as  a  scholar,  though  his  learning  was  hardly  profound 
nor  his  manner  entirely  polished.  He  had  never  been 
accredited  with  anything  like  ability  or  ambition, 
and  therefore  was  not  courted  much  at  home  nor 
taken  too  seriously  elsewhere.  However,  in  this  they 
were  all  destined  to  a  severe  awakening;  for  until 
now  Daikomitsu  had  only  once  been  really  stirred, 
and  that  was  by  the  sudden  marriage  of  Takara.  He 
had  kept  his  counsel  well,  but  from  that  time  forth 
he  had  an  ambition.  Just  what  it  might  be  he  did 
not  himself  quite  know ;  still  he  had  determined  upon 
something,  and  with  one  so  high  in  the  councils  of 
state  it  required  only  time  and  opportunity.  The 
occasion  must  come,  and  he  was  perfectly  willing  to 
drift  and  wait. 

Not  caring  much  for  the  effeminate  pastimes  of  the 
plethoric  supernumeraries  at  Kyoto,  nor  being  re- 
quired much  at  council,  he  was  at  liberty  to  go  and 
come  as  best  pleased  him;  therefore  shortly  after 
Takara's  removal  to  Tokyo  he,  too,  sought  the  sho- 
gun's  capital.  He  probably  did  this  as  a  natural  con- 
sequence more  than  as  a  fixed  plan  to  be  near  Takara; 
at  all  events  he  did  not  disturb  her,  and  his  visits 
were  always  within  the  bounds  of  strict  decorum. 
She,  on  the  other  hand,  had  paid  but  little  attention 
to  his  coming  and  going,  treating  him  as  she  did  all 
others  who  were  friendly  at  the  lord  daimyo's  castle. 

Later,  after  going  to  live  at  Tetsutaisho's  house, 


Shibusawa  Reclaimed  185 

Takara  saw  but  little  of  Daikomitsu,  meeting  him  only 
occasionally  at  Maido's,  where  they  were  both  wont  to 
go  and  visit  at  odd  times.  While  Daikomitsu  knew  of 
Takara 's  abandonment  of  her  own  home  for  that  of 
her  brother-in-law  he  did  not  divine  the  true  extent 
of  her  relations,  though  much  of  the  gossip  reaching 
Kyoto  —  finally  resulting  in  her  strange  return  — 
did  so  through  the  medium  of  none  other  than  him- 
self. And  when  she  had  gone  he  too  returned,  though 
no  one  ever  accused  him  of  having  any  direct  connec- 
tion with  her  removal. 

Daikomitsu  had  through  all  these  years  grown  to 
be  popular  at  the  capital  and  considered  a  good  friend 
at  court  —  even  accredited  by  some  as  being  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  shogun's  cause.  Especially  the  op- 
position to  Ikamon  courted  his  favour  and  even  many 
of  the  latter 's  staunchest  supporters  admired  him. 
In  fact  his  influence  had  already  come  to  be  felt,  and 
he  had  not  a  little  to  do  with  prolonging  peace  and 
maintaining  order  between  the  two  rival  factions,  the 
north  and  the  south.  In  consequence  he  interested 
himself  to  know  whether  the  geisha  party  had  been 
given  to  cover  some  breach  between  Maido  and  Ika- 
mon, and  whether  the  lord  daimyo's  removal  to  the 
country  had  a  political  meaning  deeper  than  appeared. 

Tokyo  he  did  not  believe  to  be  the  place  to  gain 
such  information,  and  hastening  back  to  Kyoto  he 
began  making  himself  a  friendly  caller  at  the  Kana- 
zawa  castle,  though  he  did  not  associate  himself 
much  with  the  quiet  meetings  that  were  beginning  to 
be  held  there  to  discuss  public  affairs.  He  may  have 
been  too  sagacious  for  that,  even  though  thought  to 
be  slow  and  of  small  consequence. 

Nor  was  he  in  harmony  with  the  sentiment  so 


1 86  Shibusawa 

rapidly  centring  around  Maido.  He  had  lost  none 
of  his  sympathies  for  the  mikado,  still  he  did  not  be- 
lieve that  any  improvement  could  be  brought  about 
by  the  admittance  of  foreigners  into  the  land ;  and  on 
that  point  thoroughly  accorded  with  the  mikado 
himself,  as  well  as  with  Saigo  and  Kido  and  all  the 
leaders  of  the  dominant  faction  in  the  south.  Real- 
ising the  dangers  of  personal  alliance,  Daikomitsu  held 
himself  as  much  as  possible  aloof  from  all  doings,  and 
contented  himself  with  investigating  the  real  status 
of  affairs. 

His  correct  understanding  of  the  political  situation, 
while  not  generally  known,  had  been  due  in  no  small 
measure  to  his  relations  with  Takara.  The  return  of 
Shibusawa  to  Kanazawa  had  aroused  her  interest, 
and  stimulated  her  to  take  a  more  active  part  in  the 
affairs  of  life.  In  fact  she  had  even  gone  so  far  as  to 
delve  into  politics,  and  whatever  Takara  did  she  did 
with  an  energy.  Thus  she  not  only  continued  her 
indifferent  relations  with  Daikomitsu,  but  actually 
sought  to  open,  upon  the  same  terms,  some  sort 
of  intercourse  with  the  house  of  Maido,  including 
her  own  husband,  Shibusawa. 

Until  now  she  had  taken  no  particular  notice  of  his 
return  from  abroad.  She  had  always  held  consider- 
able regard  for  her  husband,  though  in  her  own  heart 
she  felt  there  never  could  be  anything  of  family  inter- 
est between  them.  It  might  have  been  intrigue, 
but  it  could  not  have  been  love  that  now  prompted 
her  to  seek  him. 

While  Daikomitsu  did  not  know  so  much  —  Takara 
had  not  taken  the  pains  to  tell  him  anything  —  he 
was  not  jealous  of  Shibusawa.  He  had  never  been 
jealous  of  anybody,  and  only  dreaded  their  coming 


Shibusawa    Reclaimed  187 

together  again  as  being  the  possible  means  of  her 
total  loss  to  him;  he  planned  accordingly. 

"I  shall  be  going  to  Tokyo  in  a  few  days,  Takara, 
and  I  trust  upon  my  return  your  heart  will  not  have 
gone  in  Shibusawa's  direction." 

"Foolish  boy!  You  might  sooner  expect  it  your- 
self. However,  I  am  going  to  invite  them  over,  and 
I  shall  want  you  to  carry  the  message." 

"And  serve  you  at  the  door?" 

"Oh,  no;  I  shall  for  that  excuse  you;  it  is  the 
daimyos'  call,  not  the  princes'." 

"And  when  do  you  expect  such  a  gathering?" 

"Not  later  than  Tenno-Sai.     It  is  a  good  time." 

"I  would  return  even  before  that,  should  you  wish 
it," 

"You  are  always  kind,  Daikomitsu." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE    DAIMYO'S    ARREST 

DAIKOMITSU  proceeded  directly  to  Tokyo,  and 
upon  his  arrival  found  the  shogun's  party  con- 
siderably stirred  up  over  what  threatened  to  become 
a  serious  breach.  It  had  been  strongly  hinted  by 
some  of  Ikamon's  enemies  that  the  lord  daimyo  of 
Kanazawa  had  withdrawn  in  disgust,  and  for  no  other 
reason  than  a  hearty  dislike  of  his  son-in-law's  en- 
couragement of  everything  foreign.  There  was  also 
gaining  ground  a  feeling  that  the  crafty  minister  had 
used  too  much  to  his  own  advantage  the  powers  of  the 
shogun.  Notwithstanding  this  latter  charge,  the 
real  cause  for  dissension  centred  in  the  growing  dis- 
trust of  the  foreigners.  Here  as  in  Kyoto  it  had  al- 
ready become  the  main  issue,  and  strong  overtures 
were  being  made  to  some  of  the  leaders  in  the  mika- 
do's ranks  for  a  coalition  of  all  the  anti-foreign  forces. 

Upon  Daikomitsu's  return  to  the  scene  at  Tokyo 
he  was  showered  with  every  consideration.  In  fact 
some  of  the  more  ardent  openly  stated  that  he  had 
come  as  the  secret  envoy  of  the  mikado,  for  the  express 
purpose  of  encouraging  a  friendly  understanding  be- 
tween the  two  heads  of  government  on  that  subject. 

Ikamon  was  not  at  all  pleased  with  these  friendly 
demonstrations,  because  things  had  so  shaped  them- 
selves that  he  could  not  recede  from  ^the  position 
taken  had  he  so  desired  or  thought  best.  He  had 
used  his  influence  with  the  shogunate  to  stamp  ap- 

188 


The  Daimyo's  Arrest  189 

proval  only  upon  such  foreign  measures  as  he  had 
been  forced  to  concede,  rather  than  involve  the  na- 
tion in  open  hostilities  with  the  powers;  which  he 
knew  full  well  would  have  been  practical  suicide.  As 
a  result  of  these  several  contentions  there  had  sprung 
up,  among  a  few  of  the  more  radical  of  the  prime  min- 
ister's foes,  a  demand  for  the  regency  of  Hitotsubashi, 
and  whisperings  of  Daikomitsu  as  a  possible  successor 
to  Ikamon  himself.  It  had  already  come  to  Ika- 
mon's  ears  that  even  Tetsutaisho  had  listened  to  the 
rumors  with  indifference,  whereupon  the  prime  min- 
ister sought  an  interview  with  Daikomitsu  and  under- 
took to  wrest  from  him  a  definite  understanding. 
The  easy-going  scholar,  of  course,  denied  any  such 
thought  as  disloyalty  to  a  friend,  and  carelessly  went 
so  far  as  to  suggest  stringent  measures. 

"This  unrest  must  be  checked  in  some  way,"  said 
he  to  Ikamon,  a  day  or  so  before  he  had  fully  made 
up  his  mind  to  return  to  Kyoto.  "Why,  it  is  ru- 
moured that  even  Maido  is  in  some  way  dissatisfied. 
Yet  I  should  sooner  think  it  his  son,  Shibusawa,  were 
he  in  a  position  to  speak." 

"I  will  admit  a  drag-net  might  surprise  the  most 
sanguine  these  days  —  still,  Maido  is  beyond  ques- 
tion. When  he  has  proven  false,  then  it  is  high  time 
for  such  as  you  and  I  to  indulge  a  quicker  spirit.  In 
the  meantime  let  us  not  abstain  too  much  from  the 
liquor  —  this  the  golden  wine  that  kissed  the  wood 
these  forty  years  or  more  —  and  here  is  to  '  longer 
friendship',"  said  Ikamon,  as  he  raised  the  bowl  to 
his  own  lips,  then  passed  it  to  his  guest. 

"And  a  'better  understanding',"  answered  Daik- 
omitsu, as  he  emptied  the  contents  and  filled  again 
the  cup  for  his  host. 


190  Shibusawa 

After  this  last  interview  Daikomitsu  concluded  he 
had  best  get  away  from  the  scene  of  his  rising  popu- 
larity, so  he  immediately  returned  to  Kyoto,  where 
he  found  Takara  anxiously  engaged  about  the  dai- 
myos'  meeting,  which  had  already  been  planned.  She 
had  talked  with  Kido  and  others,  and  according  to  her 
version  none  had  seemed  to  object  and  all  promised 
to  take  part  in  the  proceedings.  Just  what  the  plans 
really  were,  no  one  claimed  to  know  or  greatly  care; 
nor  did  she  herself  apparently  have  a  very  clear 
understanding.  It  was  her  maiden  effort  in  politics, 
and  she  knew  only  that  something  must  be  done. 
Perhaps  she  had  been  advised  by  Kido,  who  was  pre- 
eminently qualified  and  probably  not  reluctant.  Pos- 
sibly she  took  a  woman's  course,  and  put  in  motion 
all  her  forces  at  the  first  impulse.  However  that 
may  have  been,  the  call  was  duly  made  and  all  re- 
sponded. Daikomitsu  had  in  person  carried  the  in- 
vitation to  Mai  do,  and  to  make  certain  his  response 
remained  there  until  proper  to  go. 

After  the  daimyos  had  assembled,  including  all  the 
southern  sympathisers  and  many  from  the  north,  it 
soon  became  apparent  that  an  effort  would  be  made 
to  pledge  a  united  support  to  a  measure  intended  to 
expel  the  foreigners. 

Maido  had  gone  there  with  no  intention  of  joining 
any  such  movement,  in  fact  had  never  surmised  its 
proposal;  nor  did  he  afterwards  discover  that  he  had 
really  been  tricked.  Saigo  was  extremely  anxious  to 
get  the  tacit  if  not  active  support  of  Kanazawa,  and 
in  consequence  had  at  an  early  day  cautioned  Kido 
to  lose  no  chance  to  cultivate  a  friendly  relation  with 
the  lord  daimyo.  Kido,  too,  appreciated  the  bene- 
fits necessarily  to  result  from  such  a  policy,  could  they 


The   Daimyo's  Arrest  191 

but  secure  his  friendship,  though  they  failed  of  an  alli- 
ance. Being  not  only  a  very  wise  statesman,  but  an 
adroit  politician,  Kido  recognised  Takara's  relation 
to  Maido's  family  and  counted  the  power  of  woman 
in  matters  of  state,  had  she  the  aptitude  and  could 
she  be  induced  to  venture.  Therefore  he  used  the 
first  opportunity  to  gratify  the  mikado's  daughter  in 
her  ambition  and  thus  further  their  cause;  though 
the  consequences  proved  to  be  far  more  startling  than 
even  he  had  dared  to  think. 

The  reception  accorded  the  lord  daimyo  upon  his 
arrival  at  Kyoto  pleased  him  very  much,  and  he  felt 
glad  indeed  for  an  opportunity  to  visit  his  daughter- 
in-law.  While  living  at  his  house  in  Tokyo  she  had 
endeared  herself  to  him,  and  though  he  realised  Shi- 
busawa's  indifference  he  may  have  had  some  hope 
that  this  visit  might  result  in  at  least  a  partial  recon- 
ciliation. He  knew  that  originally  the  marriage  had 
been  a  sad  mistake,  but  somehow  began  to  feel  that 
possibly  in  the  end  it  might  resolve  itself  into  a  use- 
ful if  not  a  happy  union.  He  had  finally  responded 
to  the  invitation  with  such  a  thought  uppermost  in  his 
mind,  and  without  paying  any  attention  to  the  dai- 
myos'  meeting  sought  while  there  to  devote  himself 
to  Takara. 

In  fact,  he  had  been  present  only  at  the  passage  of 
one  measure ;  and  then  was  so  engaged  by  Daikomitsu, 
who  accompanied  him  and  had  induced  him  to  attend, 
that  he  gained  little  understanding  of  what  actually 
took  place.  Nor  did  he  take  a  copy  of  the  document, 
when  the  final  draft  was  submitted  to  him,  but  allowed 
his  supposed  friend  the  privilege,  eagerly  taken,  of 
placing  it  hastily  in  his  girdle ;  afterwards  striding  off 
pleasantly,  together,  toward  Takara's  house. 


192 


Shibusawa 


"It  is  a  capital  idea,"  said  the  younger  man,  as 
they  approached  the  marble  doorstep.  "I  want  to 
have  you  entertain  a  more  friendly  feeling  toward  our 
people,  if  not  our  cause." 

"I  am  at  peace  with  all  the  world,"  answered 
Maido,  heartily. 

"Then  we  are  already  on  friendly  terms." 

"I  trust  so." 

"And  there  is  a  reason." 

"Maido  never  betrayed  a  friend." 

"Nor  formed  a  friendship  in  vain." 

They  had  seated  themselves  in  the  guests'  hall,  at 
Takara's  invitation,  and  were  enjoying  their  pipes 
and  tobacco.  Neither  had  spoken  a  word  to  break 
the  silence  for  some  time,  when  suddenly  Maido  said: 

"The  document,  Daikomitsu.  Let  us  see  what 
these  lords  and  barons  have  been  up  to." 

"Oh,  some  letter  of  the  mikado's,  I  believe,"  said 
Daikomitsu,  unconcernedly,  though  he  trembled 
perceptibly  as  he  drew  it  from  his  girdle  and  tossed  it 
toward  his  companion. 

"Some  friendly  encouragement,  I  presume." 

"Yes,  in  relation  to  the  foreigners,  I  believe." 

"Of  course,"  said  the  elder,  as  he  drew  a  long  whiff 
and  sat  blowing  the  smoke  through  his  nostrils. 

The  lord  daimyo  paid  no  heed  to  the  —  as  he  sup- 
posed innocent  —  document  which  lay  at  his  side, 
but  continued  the  conversation  as  if  he  preferred 
more  to  hear  his  friend's  explanation. 

Presently  Takara  came  in  and  seated  herself  at  her 
father-in-law's  side.  Thereat  the  subject  of  conver- 
sation changed  and  Maido  picked  up  the  dainty  roll 
of  paper  and  tossing  it  at  Takara  told  her  to  take 
care  of  it  until  he  should  want  it.  She  caught  it  and 


The   Daimyo's  Arrest  193 

after  a  while,  when  the  men  were  occupied,  carelessly 
unrolled  it,  and  read  from  beginning  to  end.  As  she 
did  this  Daikomitsu  watched  her  closely;  he  twitched 
nervously  and  coloured  noticeably,  though  taking  care 
not  to  attract  Maido's  attention. 

Takara  read  on  without  observing  either  of  her 
audience,  and  when  finished  smiled  with  a  sense  of 
satisfaction.  Then  re-rolling  the  paper  and  replac- 
ing the  dainty  silk  which  held  it,  she  tucked  it  away 
in  the  sleeve  of  her  kimono. 

The  measure  in  question  was  nothing  more  than  the 
endorsement  of  a  letter  which  purported  to  have  been 
written  by  the  mikado,  addressed  to  the  daimyos 
there  assembled,  individually  and  collectively.  The 
endorsement  was  in  the  nature  of  a  resolution  passed 
in  open  assembly,  only  by  the  assent  of  the  daimyos; 
a  copy  of  the  letter  and  resolution,  bearing  all  their 
names,  having  been  handed  to  each,  his  silence  being 
deemed  a  sufficient  approval.  The  letter  recom- 
mended that  they  consult  with  certain  leaders  of  the 
bakufu,  at  Tokyo  and  elsewhere,  named  therein  at 
the  instance  of  Daikomitsu,  and  that  they  organise 
a  movement  to  drive  out  the  foreigners  and  thereby 
satisfy  the  demands  of  the  people  and  restore  peace 
in  the  land.  As  a  precaution  against  being  found 
out  by  the  powers  at  Tokyo,  no  extra  copies  were 
issued,  and  none  not  liable,  excepting  only  Daikomitsu, 
had  been  allowed  to  be  present. 

Takara  and  her  company  continued  to  sit  until 
presently  the  conversation  drifted  to  things  of  interest 
about  her  home  life;  whereupon  she  proposed  they 
stroll  through  the  gardens  and  enjoy  the  early  cherry 
blossoms.  To  this  the  men  agreed,  and  she  courtesied 
and  retired  to  her  own  apartments  to  make  ready  for 
the  walk. 


1 94  Shibusawa 

Entering  her  own  chamber  Takara  took  the  docu- 
ment from  her  sleeve  and  hastily  placing  it  in  a  lac- 
quered chest  carelessly  dropped  the  lid  with  a  loud 
report.  Turning  quickly  around,  she  observed  that 
she  had  not  closed  after  her  the  partitions  and  that 
Daikomitsu  could  have  seen  her,  though  he  had  turned 
his  face  and  was  not  then  looking.  Closing  her  room 
she  proceeded  with  her  toilet,  soon  after  joining  again 
the  party,  all  of  whom  strolled  out  into  the  garden. 

They  had  not  been  there  long,  however,  before 
Daikomitsu  excused  himself  and  went  away,  failing 
to  come  back  again ;  and  when  Takara  returned  to  her 
room  she  did  not  remember  to  look  for  the  paper 
which  she  had  secreted  in  her  toilet  case.  In  fact,  it 
had  entirely  escaped  her,  and  she  also  failed  to  think 
of  it  when  Maido  later  on  prepared  to  take  his  depar- 
ture; nor  did  she  afterwards  call  it  to  mind,  until  too 
late. 

Daikomitsu  had  watched  her,  and  from  the  closing 
of  the  lid  knew  just  where  to  look  for  the  copy  of  the 
letter  and  resolution;  and  upon  excusing  himself  in 
the  garden,  stole  to  her  room,  and  taking  the  instru- 
ment gave  it  to  a  waiting  messenger,  who  bore  it 
directly  to  Ikamon.  It  proved  to  be  Daikomitsu's 
golden  opportunity,  and  he  grasped  it  eagerly  and 
effectively.  He  had  in  one  act  proved  his  loyalty 
to  Ikamon  and  laid  open  the  way  to  success,  for 
which  he  had  become  eager  and  in  his  own  easy  way 
sagacious. 

Such  a  sweeping  disclosure  as  this  purported  to  be, 
though  Ikamon  had  had  a  thorough  understanding 
with  Daikomitsu  before  the  latter's  departure  for 
Kyoto,  could  hardly  have  been  so  soon  expected.  The 
prime  minister's  self-constituted  spy  had  promised 


The  Daimyo's  Arrest  195 

something  interesting;  but  that  he  should  forthwith 
be  able  to  return  an  official  document  implicating 
so  large  a  number  of  powerful  daimyos  —  including 
his  own  father-in-law  and  nearly  thirty  of  the  bakufu 
of  his  own  city  —  in  a  plot  that  threatened  his  own 
safety  and  endangered  the  shogunate,  was  beyond 
his  comprehension.  At  first  he  was  dumfoundered, 
but  having  fought  his  way  thus  far  he  did  not  pro- 
pose to  be  outwitted.  So  he  pondered  the  situation 
over  night  and  the  next  morning  called  Jigokumon, 
keeper  of  the  torments,  and  questioned  him  about 
the  capacity  of  the  dungeons.  Then  he  said  to  him: 

"Make  ready  the  cellar  of  torture,  and  see  to  it 
that  the  slow  fires  are  well  kindled  and  the  red  light 
plentiful,  and  that  the  sulphur  pots  are  all  filled 
afresh.  Be  careful  lest  there  be  one  among  your 
lackeys  who  betrays  you,  for  Jigokumon  shall  suffer 
the  consequences." 

Then  he  began  preparing  a  list  of  the  condemned ; 
taking  particular  pains  to  include  all  of  the  bakufu 
whose  names  appeared  in  the  letter  supplied  through 
Daikomitsu,  and  as  many  of  the  daimyos  as  he  thought 
it  practicable  to  arrest  without  warlike  resistance. 
In  all  there  were  thirty  daimyos  and  twenty-seven 
bakufu.  For  these  he  issued  a  warrant  in  the  name 
of  the  shogun,  commanding  the  officer  of  the  guard 
forthwith  to  bring  their  bodies  before  the  law,  that 
they  might  be  judged  as  to  their  disloyalty,  the  crime 
charged.  Having  duly  issued  and  delivered  the  writ, 
his  reflections  grew,  until  finally  the  enormity  of  the 
situation  had  so  fixed  itself  upon  his  susceptive  nature 
that  no  punishment  seemed  severe  enough  to  fit  the 
case. 

At  first  he  inclined  toward  excusing  Maido,  but 


196  Shibusawa 

upon  reflection  changed  his  mind  and  left  his  name 
upon  the  list ;  and  as  time  went  on  and  he  dwelt  upon 
the  matter  he  conjured  up  the  most  hearty  distrust 
of  his  father-in-law,  and  finally  in  his  own  mind  ranked 
him  the  most  dangerous  enemy  of  them  all.  He  said 
to  himself: 

"I  can  now  understand  why  the  daimyo  wished  to 
withdraw  from  the  capital.  How  I  was  led  into  let- 
ting him  go!  A  swifter  vengeance  could  not  have 
been  less  deserved." 

The  quickness  of  Ikamon's  discovery  of  the  plot 
and  the  suddenness  with  which  he  acted  so  startled 
them  and  overcame  opposition  that  not  one  escaped ; 
but  all  were  promptly  arrested  and  thrown  into  Ika- 
mon's dungeon,  where  they  remained  stunned  and 
overwhelmed,  awaiting  their  doom.  Probably  the 
most  heart-broken  and  puzzled  of  the  many  was 
Maido,  for  he  had  no  inkling  of  such  a  thing  and  cer- 
tainly knew  of  no  reason  why  he  should  be  so  treated ; 
though  high-handed  proceedings  were  not  at  all  un- 
common even  in  that  late  day. 

At  first  he  inclined  toward  treating  the  whole 
matter  as  a  joke,  and  finally  upon  his  departure  told 
Shibusawa  that  he  should  not  remain  a  martyr,  but 
would  return  a  Maido. 

"I  trust  so,"  said  the  doubtful  son,  as  they  saluted 
a  last  farewell  and  the  father  started  off,  all  fettered 
and  bound. 

Maido  did  not  deign  to  think  that  anything  more 
than  some  trivial  misunderstanding  had  arisen,  and 
that  upon  his  arrival  at  Tokyo  everything  would  be 
satisfactorily  explained  and  he  would  be  accounted 
the  abused  rather  than  condemned  as  accused.  Shi- 
busawa had  less  confidence  in  Ikamon  and  was  more 


The  Daimyo's  Arrest  197 

doubtful,  still  he  did  not  believe  anything  serious 
would  come  of  it,  otherwise  he  would  have  resisted 
the  arrest.  In  talking  the  matter  over  with  his  son, 
before  being  carried  away,  Maido  recalled  the  fact  of 
having  left  with  Takara  the  only  bit  of  evidence  he 
had  received  of  his  participation  in  the  daimyos' 
meeting.  He  remembered  having  given  her  the  doc- 
ument after  talking  it  over  with  Daikomitsu,  and  said: 

"I  will  ask  for  it,  and  Takara  will  send  it  forth- 
with to  Tokyo.  It  sets  forth  all  that  to  which  I  am 
a  party,  and  will  be  a  complete  vindication.  Daiko- 
mitsu knows  its  contents,  and  it  could  not  be  in  safer 
hands  than  Takara's." 

"I  do  not  too  much  like  Daikomitsu,"  said  Shibu- 
sawa  anxiously.  "  He  is  profuse,  and  has  a  purpose." 

"Even  so,  Takara  can  be  trusted.  Do  you  know, 
I  believe  my  presence  was  desired  more  by  her  than 
the  mikado?  And  really  she  is  a  grand  woman.  I 
trust  you  will  know  more  of  her,  and  it  is  my  hope 
that  you  may  like  her  better.  She  desires  it,  I  fancy." 

After  Maido 's  departure,  Shibusawa  recalled  the 
circumstance  and  felt  much  annoyed  at  the  part 
Daikomitsu  had  played  in  connection  with  his  father's 
presence  at  Kyoto.  He  had  come  to  know  his  wife's 
former  lover  very  well  from  his  repeated  visits  to 
Kanazawa  in  the  winter,  and  was  not  much  impressed 
with  his  sincerity.  He  had  also  gathered  the  impression 
that  the  apparent  dullard  had  far  greater  ambitions 
than  generally  accredited,  and  felt  suspicious  of  the 
close  relation  that  seemed  still  to  exist  between 
Daikomitsu  and  Takara. 

In  his  limited  acquaintance  with  his  wife  Shibusawa 
had  formed  the  impression  that  she  was  rather  a 
clever  woman,  and  now  that  she  too  appeared  re- 


198  .  Shibusawa 

cently  to  have  taken  much  interest  in  Maido,  and 
gained  possession  of  his  only  evidence  of  vindication, 
he  could  not  resist  connecting  the  two  and  believing 
them  implicated  in  some  plot  to  embarrass  his  aged 
father,  if  not  to  be  rid  of  him  entirely.  He  did  not 
like  the  look  of  the  situation,  and  the  more  he  studied 
the  darker  it  grew. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

MAIDO'S    PENALTY 

AS  the  time  passed  and  no  word  came  from  his 
father  Shibusawa  began  to  realise  the  full  force 
of  his  presentiments.  He  had  not  the  power  to  go  to 
his  parent's  relief,  and  his  only  hope  lay  in  his  ability 
to  guard  against  still  further  and  greater  disaster  to 
the  family.  He  fully  realised  his  responsibility,  and 
undertook  to  acquit  himself  with  due  respect  to  the 
inevitable  and  a  proper  regard  for  truth. 

The  aged  daimyo  had  stood  patiently  the  journey 
and  borne  up  well  under  the  charge  until  reaching  the 
Tokyo  dungeon,  into  which  he  was  thrust  without 
even  a  chance  to  meet  his  accusers,  much  less  any  op- 
portunity to  hear  or  explain. 

The  foul  place  which  held  him  prisoner  lay  in  a 
damp,  dark  hole  in  the  cellar,  underneath  the  very 
building  in  which  his  son-in-law  swayed  the  sceptre  of 
his  vast  power;  and  though  many  of  these  gruesome 
cells,  each  holding  its  captive,  they  were  so  con- 
structed, with  huge  walls  and  peephole  grates,  that 
no  person  could  be  seen  or  a  voice  heard  from  one  to 
the  other.  Not  a  rat  or  uncanny  thing  could  get  in 
there,  nor  was  there  room  to  lie  down  on  the  cold, 
hard  tramped  floor.  As  Maido  entered  his  last  hope 
vanished;  he  knew  too  well  his  doom.  He  could  not 
eat  the  miserable  food  each  day  silently  pushed  in  at 
the  bare  opening  high  up  in  the  narrow  door,  nor 
could  he  sleep,  but  sank  down  and  prayed.  He 
asked  his  god  only  that  his  son  escape. 

199 


2oo  Shibusawa 

With  Maido  thus  caged  below,  Ikamon  busied 
himself  above ;  he  believed  in  doing  the  thing  once  he 
had  made  up  his  mind.  The  consequences  could  and 
would  better  adjust  themselves  afterwards.  He  had 
made  his  way  by  bold  and  unflinching  strokes,  and 
he  reasoned  that  a  change  of  policy  now  would  cer- 
tainly bring,  if  it  did  not  merit,  disaster;  therefore  he 
hastened  the  trial,  and  concluded  the  testimony  after 
the  first  ordeal. 

The  morning  came  on  gloomy,  and  a  murky  atmos- 
phere hung  over  the  city  like  a  pall.  Ikamon  rose 
early  and  hurried  to  his  great  seat  in  the  hall  of  state ; 
then  hastily  donned  the  gown  of  justice  and  took  up 
the  cudgel  of  vengeance.  There  was  no  one  to  dis- 
pute his  right,  no  one  to  stay  the  hand  which  had  now 
turned  to  fiend,  and  he  fiercely  called  out: 

"Jigokumon!" 

"Sayo,  most  honourable  high  minister,"  answered 
the  doughty  keeper  as  he  came  trudging  forward, 
bowing  and  attesting. 

"Have  the  prisoners  confessed?"  asked  the  mighty, 
speaking  purposely  in  the  plural. 

"No;  your  most  honourable  perfectness,  they  have 
not  had  —  they  have  not." 

"Then  proceed  with  the  ordeal;  the  court  cannot 
be  so  trifled  with." 

The  tormentor  withdrew.  He  knew  where  to  be- 
gin his  awful  work,  for  Ikamon  had  long  before  told 
him  that,  and  cautioned  him  about  the  victims.  He 
groped  his  way  below  and  fumbled  at  the  keyhole. 
The  great  iron  lock  creaked  as  he  threw  back  the  rusty 
bolt.  He  hauled  and  shoved  at  the  grimy  door,  and 
the  filthy  den  belched  its  nasty  air.  Two  vile  lubbers 
fell  upon  the  faint  and  helpless  daimyo,  roughly 


Maido's  Penalty  201 

dragging  him  out.  He  made  no  resistance,  nor  did 
he  cry  aloud.  They  hurried  him  through  the  long, 
dark,  narrow  passage  to  a  muffled  exit.  The  door 
closed  behind  them,  and  Jigokumon  thrust  a  lighted 
torch  in  Maido's  face,  and  snarled: 

"What  now,  you  hinin?"19 

Maido  did  not  speak;  he  was  beyond  that.  The 
light  blinded  him  and  terror  overcame  him.  He 
glanced  pitifully  at  Ikamon's  ruffians,  then  sank 
back  unable  to  comprehend.  His  torturer  sneered 
as  he  snuffed  the  light  and  hissed: 

"To  the  torments!" 

Throwing  open  the  outer,  or  last  door,  the  two 
flunkeys  thrust  the  lord  daimyo  forward  upon  the  hot 
cinders  covering  the  earthen  floor.  Jigokumon  re- 
mained outside;  it  was  too  awful  in  there,  even  for 
him.  They  hustled  Maido  to  the  centre  of  the  room 
and  lashed  his  hands  at  his  back  with  one  end  of  a 
cord  which  hung  loosely  from  a  beam  overhead. 
After  securely  tying  his  feet  together  the  two  heavy 
men  slowly  pulled  at  the  loose  end  of  the  cord  from 
above;  whereat  the  victim's  arms  fairly  twisted  in 
the  sockets  and,  with  downcast  face,  his  limbs  hung 
limp.  Maido  groaned,  then  nerved  himself  to  the 
ordeal. 

Having  raised  him  a  trifle  from  the  ground,  the 
monsters  slid  beneath  his  bare  feet  a  pot  of  burning 
coals  from  which  the  lid  was  stripped.  The  sulphur 
pots  were  lit,  and  the  red  light  flashed  —  the  fiends 
disappeared,  and  the  fumes  rose,  enveloping  the 
suffering  patriot.  He  uttered  no  sound,  but  looked 
upon  the  hellish  scene  with  stoic  indifference.  Per- 
haps he  thought  of  man's  sphere  as  compared  with 
God's.  Possibly  he  contrasted  the  good  with  the 


2O2  Shibusawa 

evil  of  life,  as  lived  on  earth;  and  he  may  have 
glimpsed  at  a  truer  way,  the  one  that  heaven  foretells. 

He  had  hung  there  only  a  few  minutes  —  it  seemed 
to  him  an  age  —  before  his  feet  shrivelled  and  black- 
ened, while  the  fire  crackled  and  sizzled  around  them. 
As  his  contorted  body  dangled  in  the  air,  his  face  up- 
turned, he  momentarily  saw,  peering  through  a  glass- 
covered  peephole,  his  trusted  son-in-law,  Ikamon ;  then 
a  smile  crossed  his  face  and  he  lost  all  consciousness. 

While  Maido  was  being  pushed  into  the  cellar  of 
torture,  Ikamon  had  seated  himself  in  the  judge's 
cubby -hole,  which  adjoined  the  chamber  of  testi- 
mony, permitting  a  close  watch  of  the  victim  and  a 
taking  of  the  confession,  if  such  were  made,  without 
suffering  the  annoyance  of  the  fiery  fumes  within.  He 
looked  only  once,  and  fate  revealed  the  sickly  smile, 
whereat  he  quickly  drew  the  curtain,  and  turning, 
shouted : 

"Jigokumon;  Jigokumon;  relieve  the  victim;  the 
confession  is  made!  " 

Suddenly  the  fires  were  extinguished,  and  Maido, 
more  dead  than  alive,  was  restored  to  the  damp  cell 
from  which  he  had  been  taken.  He  did  not  recover 
consciousness  for  a  long  time,  but  when  he  had  done  so 
he  suffered  such  intense  pain  that  he  begged  the  dumb 
walls  for  death. 

He  had,  however,  long  to  wait,  for  he  had  been  left 
there  to  suffer  all  but  that.  Ikamon,  though,  gauged 
well  the  time,  and  before  too  late  pronounced  the  sen- 
tence: Maido,  together  with  all  the  rest,  was  led  forth 
into  the  wilderness  of  Musashijamoku,  where  they 
were  scattered  about  and  permitted,  one  after  an- 
other, the  right  of  harakiri.  There  overhung  the 
marsh  land  a  mist,  and  the  murky  wet  clung  to  the 


Maido's  Penalty  203 

smooth,  round  bamboos,  echoing  a  grave-like  sound 
as  each  pronounced  the  parting  word.  All  excepting 
Maido  had  gone,  and  it  now  came  his  turn.  He  sat 
there  in  the  cold  wet  with  his  snarled  and  decaying 
limbs  crossed  under  him.  His  face  was  upturned 
and  in  his  right  hand  he  held  the  sharpened  steel.  He 
had  thanked  his  accusers  for  respecting  his  right  to 
die  as  became  his  rank,  and  now  thought  only  of  his 
own,  his  son.  Out  of  the  gloom  of  the  swamp  there 
arose  the  sound  of  the  executioner's  voice;  it  said 
only: 

"Maido." 

The  blow  was  struck,  and  his  head  dropped  for- 
ward. Then  there  came  from  the  still  forest  a  silent, 
anxious  step,  and  trembling  voice,  saying: 

" It  is  too  late !     He  is  gone!" 

She  bent  over  him  and  whispered: 

"It  is  I." 

He  raised  his  face  to  hers  and  answered : 

"Takara!" 

Then  she  cried: 

"It  was  not  I!  Oh,  honourable  father,  it  was  not 
I  that  did  it!" 

Maido  said: 

"I  understand.  It  was  he  who  stole  it.  You  are 
my  deliverer.  You  have  brought  me  news." 

"And  he  knows  not  your  fate,  but  is  not  deceived. 
He  lives  and  I  am  still  his  wife.  Shibusawa  will 
vindicate  his  father's  name.  I  swear  it!" 

Takara  straightened  up  and  the  fire  flashed  from 
her  eyes,  as  her  words  pierced  the  dull  air  around  her. 

"It  is  well." 

These  were  the  words  with  which  Maido  bade  the 
world  a  last  farewell,  with  which  he  forgave  his  tra- 


204  Shibusawa 

ducers,  and  with  which  he  welcomed  death.  He 
knew  Takara's  power  and  believed  in  her  sincerity. 
He  was  ready  to  die. 

Maido  fell  face  downward,  and  Takara  bathed  her 
handkerchief  in  the  blood  that  flowed  from  the  wound 
at  his  waist;  then  wrapping  up  the  stained  symbol, 
hid  it  in  the  folds  of  her  obi  ;20  she  had  taken  the  oath 
that  is  —  until  avenged. 

Takara  stood  there  as  if  held  by  some  wild,  un- 
trained spirit;  she  stared  this  way  and  that,  then  a 
low  cry  escaped  her  lips.  The  haunted  woods  around 
mocked  her,  and  trembling  she  listened.  Not  until 
now  had  she  realised  the  awful  situation  or  divined 
the  peril  of  her  strange  adventure.  She  turned  to  go, 
but  a  rough  officer  seized  and  quickly  led  her  away. 

Upon  learning  of  the  wholesale  arrests,  as  they 
were  being  made,  Takara  had  missed  from  its  place 
of  keeping  the  document  which  Maido  had  intrusted 
to  her  care.  She  recalled  Daikomitsu's  nervousness 
at  the  time  of  her  reading  it,  his  chance  of  seeing  her 
hide  it  away,  and  his  sudden  departure  from  the  gar- 
den, and  thought  of  his  strange  actions  afterwards; 
then  she  concluded  —  not  reasoned  —  that  these 
peculiar  circumstances  bore  some  connection  with 
the  unexpected  seizure  of  so  many  of  the  daimyos 
who  were  present  at  the  meeting.  No  one  knew 
Daikomitsu  better  than  Takara,  and  while  she  be- 
lieved him  a  coward  of  little  consequence  she  consid- 
ered him  capable  of  the  meanest  villainy  —  in  the 
prospect  of  gain  without  detection.  She  did  not  stop 
to  inquire  about  a  motive,  though  she  might  have  dis- 
covered one  lurking  between  his  repeated  trips  to 
Tokyo  and  the  few  unguarded  disclosures  made  to 
her  in  the  course  of  their  long  acquaintance. 


Maido's   Penalty  205 

Divining  the  clue  to  Ikamon's  source  of  informa- 
tion the  mikado's  daughter  had  set  outpost-haste  to 
frustrate  his  designs.  She  first  called  upon  Kido,  but 
he  proved  to  be  powerless,  in  fact  was  only  too  glad 
to  have  escaped.  Then  she  went  to  Kanazawa,  and 
there  was  horrified  to  learn  that  her  beloved  father-in- 
law  too  had  been  snatched  away.  She  did  not  stop 
to  right  herself  with  Shibusawa,  who  now  charged  her 
with  being  the  accomplice  of  Daikomitsu  —  the  one 
person  more  than  any  other  interested  in  the  down- 
fall of  the  house  of  Maido  —  and  when  he  finally 
dismissed  her,  saying: 

"There  is  now  nothing  to  merit  even  our  friend- 
ship," she  stooped  with  sorrow  and  answered: 

"  It  is  true.     I  am  justly  served." 

Though  their  meeting  had  been  a  pitiful  one,  Ta- 
kara  did  not  break  down  under  the  weight  of  his 
accusation  nor  did  she  weaken  in  her  purpose.  She 
had  discovered  still  greater  reason  for  her  activities, 
and  incidentally  learned  that  Shibusawa  was  fully 
prepared  to  withstand  any  further  assault  upon  his 
stronghold.  She,  therefore,  left  him  and  resumed 
her  journeying  toward  Tokyo. 

At  her  arrival  there  the  whole  populace  seemed  in  an 
uproar,  the  excited  mobs  everywhere  crying: 

"To  the  swamp!  to  the  wilderness!  The  yama- 
bushi!21the  vile!  the  disloyal!  Asano!  Kurano! 
Maido!  Let  their  bodies  be  ripped! " 

Takara  shuddered  when  she  heard  the  fierce 
rabble,  and  her  heart  poured  out  its  measure.  Divin- 
ing Maido's  last  thought,  she  hastened  forward  in  the 
hope  of  reaching  him  before  too  late  to  deliver  the 
word  that  would  give  him  peace  before  death.  Leav- 
ing her  carriers  at  the  wood  side,  she  clambered 


206  Shibusawa 

through  the  mire  and  under  the  big  trees.  Time 
and  again  the  weird,  painful  sound  grated  upon  her 
ears  as  one  after  another  of  the  victims  said  his  last : 

"Sayonari." 

She  struggled  on,  not  knowing  which  way  to  go, 
until  she  had  come  within  hearing  of  the  mysterious 
voice  of  the  hidden  executioner,  who  called  in  rota- 
tion the  names  of  those  that  were  performing  the 
honoured  rite.  She  stole  after  him,  and  upon  calling 
the  name  of  her  lord  and  master's  father  she  rushed 
ahead  in  time  to  greet  him  with  the  assurance  that 
was  to  him  a  recompense  for  all  his  trials  and  sorrow. 

Fortunately  Takara  did  not  see  the  sickening  evi- 
dence of  his  prolonged  and  terrible  suffering;  his 
abused  limbs  had  sunken  into  the  mire,  and  she  saw 
only  that  he  had  died  the  death  of  honour.  And  she 
felt  happy  that  she  had  reached  him  in  time,  though 
Shibusawa  knew  not  that  she  carried  the  message. 
Maido's  joy  rewarded  her. 

The  luckless  woman's  captor  rudely  hurried  her 
through  the  woods,  and  departing  the  scene  she  did 
not  look  back.  She  made  no  resistance,  but  obeyed 
the  eager  fellow's  command;  nor  did  she  think  much 
of  the  consequences.  She  tramped  along,  and  as  they 
went  the  air  grew  more  stifling.  The  hot  breath  of  the 
forest  rose  and  choked  them,  and  upon  reaching  the 
open  they  found  it  there,  too,  suffocating. 

Continuing  toward  the  city,  they  presently  reached 
the  outskirts  exhausted  —  the  keeper  more  than 
his  prisoner  —  and  climbing  to  the  top  of  a  low  hill 
halted  for  the  night.  Here  there  stood  a  temple,  and 
near  by  a  small  tea  house  in  which  he  undertook,  be- 
cause of  his  inability  to  go  farther,  to  hold  her  captive; 
proposing  to  rest  until  morning,  proceeding  then  to 


Maido's  Penalty  207 

Ikamon's  dungeon,  the  intended  place  of  her  impris- 
onment. Having  securely  lodged  the  hopeful  woman 
in  a  small  detached  room,  the  ponderous  captor  re- 
freshed himself  and  lay  down  in  front  to  keep  guard. 
The  humbled  daughter  of  a  proud  royalty  had 
failed  in  her  mission,  yet  in  that  failure  fate  had  re- 
vealed to  her  the  sweetest  rite,  the  consoling  of  a  dying 
friend.  Maido's  lips  had  been  sealed,  but  in  that 
there  arose  a  fresh  desire,  and  had  Takara  been  privi- 
leged to  meet  the  living  as  she  had  parted  with  the 
dead,  she  would  gladly  have  resigned  herself  to  her 
doom.  The  new  responsibility  made  imperative  to 
her  the  seemingly  hopeless  task  of  again  reaching 
Shibusawa. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

THE    EARTHQUAKE 

TAKARA  did  not  give  much  thought  to  her  im- 
prisonment or  the  disposition  that  might  be 
made  of  her;  she  felt  too  tired  for  that,  and  had  no 
sooner  been  left  alone  than  she  fell  fast  asleep.  It 
was  quite  different  though  with  Bansuro  her  keeper. 
He  rested  hardly  any,  and  could  think  of  nothing  but 
the  reward  surely  to  be  had  for  bringing  to  the  high 
court  a  spy  of  so  great  consequence;  for  had  he  not, 
he  reasoned,  captured  her  while  in  the  very  act  of  con- 
versing with  the  condemned?  And  would  not  Ika- 
mon  rejoice? 

Bansuro  had  not  seen  Hontone,  Takara's  head 
carrier  and  only  protector,  as  he  shadowed  and 
watched  them  like  a  sleuth.  Not  satisfied  with  his 
mistress'  having  gone  into  the  woods  alone,  he  fol- 
lowed and  watched  from  a  distance  her  every  move- 
ment, and  when  caged  alone  in  the  room  at  the  tea 
house  he  felt  her  safe  for  the  night.  Hontone  then 
ran  away  and  brought  his  fellows,  and  in  the  dark  and 
without  discovery  they  planned  her  rescue. 

They  lay  in  the  bushes  growing  about  the  old,  neg- 
lected temple,  with  its  crumbling  beams  and  weather- 
cracked  siding,  and  were  within  easy  reach  of  the 
cosey  place  where  Takara  slept  a  prisoner.  Now  and 
then  Hontone  would  steal  near  and  listen,  then  re- 
turn with  the  assurance  that  she  yet  rested  safely. 
Presently,  as  the  night  darkened,  the  air  grew  murky 

208 


The  Earthquake  209 

and  difficult  of  breathing.  It  had  been  intensely 
sultry  all  day,  but  now  there  came  from  everywhere 
hollow  soundings,  and  a  hushed  silence  spread  over 
the  earth. 

The  carriers  crouched  down  and  stared  blankly; 
not  one  of  them  ventured  to  speak.  The  suspense 
was  dreadful  and  Hontone  whispered: 

"It  is  an  earthquake!" 

Presently  they  were  thrown  straight  up  from  the 
ground,  and  then  down  and  up,  while  a  mad  rumbling 
sounded  in  their  ears.  Their  senses  seemed  suddenly 
to  depart,  and  they  felt  as  if  no  certainty  of  anything 
remained.  A  short,  breathless  lull  followed,  and  then 
there  came  another  great  pounding,  as  if  from  be- 
neath, some  monster  drove  at  the  earth's  crust  with 
a  huge  hammer.  The  beams  split,  the  walls  cracked, 
and  the  tiles  rattled  down  from  the  roofs.  Every- 
where the  people  ran  frantic,  with  dishevelled  hair  and 
glaring  eyes.  They  groped  at  nothing,  and  cried 
pitifully.  The  earth  rumbled  on,  and  again  they  were 
shocked  and  thrown  from  their  feet.  The  ground 
gaped,  and  frightened  men  tumbled  headlong  or  bal- 
anced at  the  edge  of  dark,  bottomless  crevices. 
Thousands  fell  and  their  pitiful  cries  arose  from  the 
mysterious  deep  or  died  away  with  a  faint  echoing  of 
its  awful  uncertainty.  The  fire  flashed  up  and  burned 
fiercely  among  the  ddbris  of  falling  walls  and  thatched 
roofs.  The  cries  of  the  penned-in  victims  tore  their 
hearts,  and  they  ran  hither  and  thither,  bewildered 
and  uncertain.  And  when  the  cruel,  heartless  earth- 
quake had  done  its  frightful  work,  and  there  seemed 
no  chance  for  greater  havoc,  there  came  a  roaring  and 
crashing  as  if  the  sea  were  rolling  onward,  crushing 
and  tossing  and  mangling  in  its  terrible  track  the 


21  o  Shibusawa 

half -living  who  had  escaped  the  lesser,  if  more  fright- 
ful, danger.  As  the  tidal  wave  came  on,  grinding 
and  swallowing  the  earth  with  gluttonous  fury,  they 
huddled  and  waited.  There  was  nothing  to  do,  no 
hope  to  cherish,  for  they  knew  not  a  Home  beyond. 
Their  god  dwelt  where  the  reason  finds  its  sway,  and 
faith  is  but  a  factor  in  what  we  know. 

The  mighty  wave,  rolling  inland,  tossed  upon  its 
crest  the  treasures  of  the  deep  and  threw  them  high 
upon  the  mountain  side.  There  were  whales  of  the 
ocean  and  ships  of  the  sea  hurled  a  hundred  feet  above 
its  level  and  carried  miles  from  its  shore.  And  when 
the  waters  receded,  carrying  likewise  the  things  of 
the  earth,  much  of  the  consequences  of  the  terrible  dis- 
aster went  with  them.  Nor  was  it  satisfied  to  wash 
away  its  own  rubbish,  but  it  had  carried  off,  forever,  se- 
crets not  its  own.  The  dead  bodies  of  Ikamon's  venge- 
ful thirst,  too,  had  gone;  they  were  no  more,  and  the 
tale  of  their  passing  lived  only  in  the  memory  of  the  few. 
The  many  had  a  multitude  of  their  own  to  mourn. 

It  was  an  awful  catastrophe,  and  its  victims  were 
legion.  Still  Takara  had  escaped;  at  the  first  warn- 
ing of  the  earthquake  her  keeper  had  flown  —  there 
was  no  prisoner  penned  in  Ikamon's  dungeon  on 
the  morrow,  nor  any  report  made  of  the  attempt. 
After  the  first  shock  had  passed,  Hontone  sprang 
from  his  hiding-place  and  seizing  Takara,  with  his 
strong  arms  threw  her  upon  his  back  and  ran  back  into 
the  bushes,  where  they  all  clung  fast  to  the  roots  and 
lay  prone  for  their  lives.  Takara  knew  her  men,  and 
happily  resigned  herself  to  their  protection.  Nor  did 
she  surrender  amiss,  for  they  not  only  saved  her  from 
the  fury  of  the  elements,  but  on  the  morrow  carried 
her  forth  from  the  city  unmolested  and  unnoticed. 


The  Earthquake  2 1 1 

Several  days  had  passed  before  they  again  reached 
Kyoto,  where  Takara  rewarded  her  faithful  men,  and 
sought  retirement  and  that  rest  which  soon  restored 
her  peace  of  mind,  though  the  great  sorrow  continued 
to  weigh  heavily  upon  her  heart. 

While  Takara  had  failed  of  her  purpose  she  felt 
that  she  had  done  some  good,  since  she  had  brought 
at  death  some  peace  to  the  one  who  —  more  than 
any  other,  not  excepting  her  own  husband  —  had  in 
some  measure  come  to  understand  her.  She  knew 
that  she  had  done  in  the  past  what  she  believed  to  be 
her  part,  and  now  that  a  new  purpose  and  a  larger 
life  had  dawned  she  resolved  to  make  herself  worthy 
the  trial.  Holding  her  counsel,  thenceforth  she  began 
the  work  with  an  earnestness  and  faithfulness  that 
bespoke  her  true  character. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

THE  CHILD'S  FATE 

THOUGH  the  earthquake  had  spared  no  part  of 
the  capital,  and  devastated  equally  among  the 
high  and  the  lowly,  the  tidal  wave  did  not  rise  to  the 
top  of  the  numerous  hills  spreading  over  the  city. 
Thus  many  were  saved,  and  by  some  unknown  freak 
of  fate  Ikamon  remained  among  them. 

Nor  did  he  suffer  much  regret ;  for  it  had  been  the 
certain  means  of  destroying  the  unsightly  evidence  of 
his  dastardly  act,  as  well  as  an  occasion  for  the  distrac- 
tion of  the  public  mind.  He  had  been  anxious  enough 
to  get  rid  of  his  accounted  enemies,  but  did  not  much 
relish  the  talk  about  it ;  and  now  that  the  nation  had 
been  inflicted  with  a  great  calamity  that  would  dis- 
tract their  minds,  he  appeared  really  glad  at  heart.  The 
dead  daimyos'  succession  engaged  his  attention  first, 
and  hastening  to  bury  the  official  notification  beneath 
the  excitement  of  the  moment  he  began  on  the  very 
next  day  to  forward  letters  of  advice  and  condolence. 

The  prime  minister's  expressions  of  sorrow,  espe- 
cially to  Shibusawa,  were  more  than  profuse;  they 
were  prodigal,  and  ended  by  admonishing  this  young 
daimyo  to  repose  in  him  that  implicit  confidence 
which  "it  had  been  the  good  fortune  of  his  happy 
father  before  him  to  possess."  He  cautioned  him  to 
look  well  to  the  shogun's  procedures,  and  speed  the 
day  of  his  coming  to  Tokyo  to  prostrate  his  person  at 
the  feet  of  his  august  highness. 


The  Child's  Fate  213 


While  Ikamon  had  been  so  fortunate  in  escaping 
disaster,  the  same  did  not  prove  entirely  so  with 
Tetsutaisho.  At  his  house  the  first  shock  occa- 
sioned much  excitement,  and  dire  disaster  followed 
in  the  wake  of  the  phenomenon.  Kinsan  had  not  re- 
tired for  the  night,  but  sat  trilling  and  musing  in  her 
chamber.  The  child  in  its  kimono  lay  sleeping  on  the 
floor  near  by,  while  the  warm,  sultry  air  floated  in  at 
the  house  sides,  where  the  slides  had  not  yet  been 
closed.  The  tall  trees  overhanging  her  veranda 
seemed  more  shadowless  than  ever  before,  and 
she  peered,  as]  she  so  often  did,  into  the  dark  soli- 
tude outside. 

At  the  first  tremor  she  ran  and  clasped  Sodachino- 
joi  in  her  arms;  then  crouched  upon  the  floor,  waiting 
with  breathless  expectation.  In  a  moment  —  it 
seemed  an  age  —  Nehachibana  flew  into  the  room, 
with  her  hair  dishevelled  and  eyes  wild  and  furtive. 
Shrieking  and  wailing  she  implored  Ninigi,  now  god 
of  earth,  to  forego  his  quarrel  with  Sosanoo,  and  cease 
tormenting  the  good  people  of  Jimmu.  Kinsan  par- 
leyed with  her  to  be  calm,  and  come  and  sit  by  her 
side;  but  this  she  would  not  do,  for  she  now  bitterly 
hated  her  whom  she  thought  to  be  her  only  rival.  She 
would  not  be  consoled,  and  when  the  second  shock 
rent  the  earth  beneath  them  and  the  house  timbers 
parted  and  the  heavy  tiling  fell  upon  their  heads  a 
ghastly  smile  crossed  her  face,  and  she  played  and 
snapped  her  fingers,  and  stole  toward  the  deep,  hol- 
low crater  opening  beneath  the  rent  in  the  floor. 

A  falling  tile  had  struck  Kinsan  a  blow  on  the  head 
and  she  lay  helpless  at  the  edge  of  the  gap  in  the  floor, 
held  only  by  her  clothing  from  sliding  into  the  yawn- 
ing crevice  below.  The  child  was  unhurt ;  it  played 


214  Shibusawa 

upon  the  tilted  mat,  and  cooed  without  a  sense  of  its 
own  peril.  Nehachibana  leaned  over  it,  anxious  and 
breathless.  Her  eyes  flashed  and  she  spoke  inco- 
herently, saying; 

"Shall  I  end  this  wicked  sorrow?" 

Suddenly  the  mat  slipped  and  the  child  slid  into 
the  gaping  earth,  and  not  a  sound  arose  to  tell  of  its 
terrible  fate.  Nehachibana  made  no  effort  to  stay 
death's  angry  claim,  but  recoiled  from  it  and  charged 
herself  with  remorse  at  having  lost  the  chance  to  take 
revenge  with  her  own  hand.  Then  she  braced  herself 
and  with  set  teeth  said: 

"  It  is  not  too  late!" 

Plunging  forward  and  grappling  the  listless,  help- 
less form  that  lay  heavily  upon  the  brink,  she  tugged 
and  pushed  it  almost  over,  then  stopped  and  weirdly 
looked  around.  There  was  no  one  there,  but  the 
thought  startled  her,  and  she  said: 

"No.     I  can  take  a  better  revenge." 

Pulling  her  intended  victim  away  from  the  danger- 
ous place,  Nehachibana  brought  water  in  a  dish,  and 
showered  it  in  her  face;  then  went  away,  and  by  the 
time  she  had  revived  she  returned,  offering  assistance 
and  nourishment.  Many  weeks  passed  before  Kin- 
san  fully  recovered,  and  not  until  then  had  she  been 
told  of  the  fate  of  Tetsutaisho's  son. 

No  one  had  witnessed  the  sad  scene  except  Nehachi- 
bana, and  she  took  care  to  remain  silent  and  undis- 
covered. Kinsan  took  the  blame  all  upon  herself  and 
sorrowed  deeply  and  pined  much  over  the  loss.  Tet- 
sutaisho  was  grief  stricken,  and  for  a  long  time  un- 
able to  reconcile  himself  to  his  only  son's  destruction, 
hence  became  more  kindly  disposed  toward  Kinsan 
and  solicitous  for  her  love.  She,  however,  remained 


The  Child's  Fate  215 

steadfast  and  true  to  herself,  seeking  in  every  right 
way  to  serve  her  master  and  atone  for  the  great  sor- 
row that  she  charged  herself  with  having  brought 
upon  him.  The  disappointed  wife  in  the  meantime 
resorted  to  every  artifice  within  her  weakened  range 
to  win  Tetsutaisho  for  herself,  and  no  material  change 
took  place  among  them  until  she  had  fully  resolved 
that  no  hope  remained. 

Takara  had  not  heard  of  the  disappearance  of  the 
child.  In  fact,  having  little  means  of  gaining  any 
knowledge  of  him  without  too  great  danger  to  all  con- 
cerned, she  had  long  ago  ceased  to  worry  about  his 
fortunes.  The  past  was  now  more  than  ever  a  blank 
to  her.  She  devoted  herself  to  the  day  at  hand,  un- 
trammelled by  that  which  had  gone  before. 

Kido,  her  friend  and  counsellor,  had  called  a  new 
meeting  of  the  daimyos,  confining  his  invitations  to 
the  south  and  only  such  others  as  he  knew  to  be  safe. 
They  had  been  warned  against  Daikomitsu  by  Ta- 
kara, and  wisely  heeded  her  advice:  the  mikado's 
cause  was  a  sacred  right,  and  its  supporters  knew  no 
such  thing  as  disloyalty ;  their  claims  were  founded 
upon  principle  and  their  measures  smacked  not  of  the 
charlatan.  Kido,  the  recognised  "head  and  pen," 
Saigo,  the  accredited  "heart  and  sword"  —  they 
planned  nobly  and  stood  ready  to  fight  honourably. 

As  they  had  been  anxious  to  secure  Maido's  friend- 
ship before,  they  were  hopeful  of  claiming  Shibusawa's 
after  the  succession,  and  Takara,  bending  all  her  en- 
ergies to  that  end,  would  gladly  have  sacrificed  home, 
position,  everything,  to  secure  and  advance  him  at  the 
mikado's  court.  No  one  knew  better  than  she  that 
his  sympathies  were  more  in  accord  with  their  ideals 
than  with  the  shogunate  's ;  and  could  they  but  enlist 


216  Shibusawa 

him  they  would  be  in  a  position  to  withstand,  if  not 
overwhelm,  the  enemy.  It  became  a  duty  with  Ta- 
kara,  and  Shibusawa  rose  to  be  her  god. 

He  on  the  other  hand,  knowing  himself,  and  cogni- 
sant of  his  strength,  dared  not  act  so  quickly.  True, 
his  faith  in  the  shogunate  was  rapidly  being  shat- 
tered —  not  alone  because  of  his  father's  wanton  de- 
struction —  nor  did  bitterness  poison  him ;  he  could  see 
beyond  vicious  revenge.  There  were  at  stake  the 
destinies  of  a  nation,  the  survival  of  a  civilisation,  and 
the  maintenance  of  a  principle  that  gave  or  took  the 
liberties  of  mankind.  He  must  first  see  the  right, 
then  succeed  even  at  the  cost  of  life. 

He  still  doubted  Takara,  even,  in  a  measure,  after 
learning  something  of  her  heroic  sacrifices.  In  serv- 
ing Mai  do,  she  had  also  served  him,  told  him  that  his 
father  had  died  by  an  honourable  rite,  to  Shibusawa 
not  the  chief est,  but  a  high  aim.  He  thanked  her 
from  his  heart  and  promised  a  blessing,  though  Daiko- 
mitsu  he  dismissed  as  unworthy  a  hearing.  He  had 
less  desire  to  avenge  an  act  than  to  right  a  wrong,  and 
when  the  would-be-trickster  sought  his  aid  in  setting 
the  ronin  to  move  on  what  he  professed  to  be  a  com- 
mon enemy,  Shibusawa  frowned  him  away,  saying: 

"Please  do  not  encourage  the  thought,  much  less 
the  act." 

Daikomitsu,  however,  not  so  easily  frustrated,  had 
a  purpose  of  his  own,  and  sought  in  other  ways  to 
further  his  schemes,  though  a  tangle  ensued  where 
he  least  desired.  The  ronin  were  his  fit  instruments, 
and  knowing  their  readiness  he  sought  and  before  the 
winter  had  passed  set  them  well  in  motion.  He  not 
only  had  done  this,  but  knew  better  than  others  just 
how  the  forces  of  state  were  scattered;  and  carrying 


The  Child's  Fate  217 

his  knowledge  with  him  went  to  Tokyo  and  there 
posed  as  the  wise  man  from  the  south,  and  inciden- 
tally, among  the  prime  minister's  enemies,  as  a  most 
likely  successor  to  Ikamon. 

The  malcontents  offered  the  means,  Ikamon's 
removal  the  place,  and  the  ronin  the  instrument, 
through  which  Daikomitsu  was  to  rise  and  prepare 
the  way  to  reach  Takara's  heart.  Keeping  well  out 
of  the  way  of  Shibusawa,  who,  therefore,  gave  his 
movements  no  further  concern,  the  apparent  dullard 
proved  equal  to  the  occasion,  and  along  these  lines 
made  the  advance. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

RONIN    RAIDS 

OWING  to  unsettled  conditions  the  ensuing 
winter  proved  most  opportune  for  Daikomitsu 
to  further  his  schemes  and  advance  his  prospects. 
Much  dissatisfaction  had  grown  out  of  Ikamon's 
cold-blooded  work,  and  even  his  friends  were  shocked 
at  his  audacity.  While  he  still  maintained  control 
of  the  shogun's  party,  he  held  them  together  only  with 
considerable  difficulty,  and  long  before  the  final  blow 
came  found  himself  in  dire  straits  for  sufficient  sup- 
port, even  the  protection  of  Tetsutaisho. 

Outside  of  Tokyo  his  doings  were  looked  upon  as 
the  voice  of  the  shogunate  and  his  acts  charged  there- 
to, while  at  home  a  feeling  gained  ground  that  the 
power  must  be  wrested  from  his  hands  and  the  party 
restored  to  its  former  status.  Many  realised  that 
they  could  not  long  stand  before  the  inroads  of  the 
foreigners  on  the  one  hand  and  the  cry  of  the  popu- 
lace on  the  other.  Ikamon's  friendly  concession  had 
ceased  to  satisfy  the  one,  and  his  daring  blow  failed  to 
crush  the  other;  his  enemies  were  eager  for  his  down- 
fall, and  Daikomitsu  offered  the  most  potent,  if  not 
reasonable  solution.  Therefore  they  welcomed  him 
and  winked  at  his  questionable  doings. 

After  placing  himself  on  friendly  terms  with  the 
ronin,  Daikomitsu  began  urging  them  to  greater  ac- 
tivity, and  as  they  had  already  become  eager  for 
some  chance  again  to  make  themselves  felt  they  were 

218 


Ronin  Raids 


219 


only  too  easily  inflamed.  Although  these  strange 
bands  of  marauders  held  many  grievances  they  ad- 
vanced no  definite  policy,  and  allied  themselves  with 
no  particular  party  or  faction;  they  had  come  into 
existence  through  an  infraction  of  the  law  and  lived 
and  thrived  best  on  disorder.  The  friendship  of  one 
so  high  in  the  councils  of  state  as  Daikomitsu  they 
considered  a  license  as  well  as  an  honour;  and,  listen- 
ing earnestly  to  his  counsel,  advanced,  before  spring 
had  come,  afresh  upon  their  terrible  raids. 

Daikomitsu  kept  himself  well  informed  as  to  their 
movements,  and  long  before  they  had  concentrated 
upon  Tokyo  had  gone  there  and  begun  the  rebuilding 
of  his  popularity.  Managing  to  elude  his  acquaint- 
ances at  Kyoto  and  get  away  without  arousing  sus- 
picion as  to  his  intentions  and  aspirations  even 
Takara  did  not  divine  his  real  purposes,  and  Kido 
knew  nothing  of  them  and  cared  less  about  him.  Nor 
did  his  friends,  professed  or  otherwise,  in  Tokyo  know 
anything  about  his  connection  with  the  ronin,  but 
(when  they  thought  of  him  at  all)  considered  him  a 
statesman  and  a  patriot,  without  any  direct  connec- 
tion with  any  party  or  faction  at  either  place.  They 
knew  he  was  of  the  literati  and  a  kuge  by  birth,  but 
counted  him  equally  a  friend  to  the  true  shogunate. 

All  the  major  wrongs  complained  of  by  the  ronin 
were  directly  chargeable,  as  they  thought,  to  the  sho- 
gunate, and  in  consequence  their  activities  began  in 
that  direction.  Assuming  the  disguise  of  various  oc- 
cupations many  of  them  gathered  at  Tokyo,  marking 
their  victims  and  preparing  to  make  good  their  own 
escape.  Regular  meetings  were  held  and  all  move- 
ments directed  orderly  and  with  despatch,  so  that  as 
a  whole  they  made  no  mistakes,  while  each  member 


22O  Shibusawa 

bound  himself  by  an  inviolable  oath.  They  had  been 
worked  up  to  the  belief  that  Ikamon  was  responsible 
for  everything,  and  lest  he  should  escape,  early 
marked  him  as  their  first  victim  and  awaited  only  the 
word  of  Daikomitsu,  who  in  due  time  said: 

"Take  the  principal  first.  You  can  better  right  the 
wrong  after  the  instigator  is  gone." 

Ikamon,  with  all  his  spies,  remained  ignorant  of  the 
plot  against  him,  probably  because  he  considered 
Daikomitsu  his  friend  and  believed  in  the  crude  con- 
trivances advanced  to  throw  him  off  his  guard;  pos- 
sibly because  of  his  being  beset  with  a  multiplicity  of 
dangers,  for  these  were  to  him  hard  and  trying  times. 
He  could  trust  no  one  now  except  Yasuko,  his  wife, 
who  had  remained  loyal  to  him  and  proud  of  his 
achievements.  She  knew  not  the  reason,  nor  did  she 
question  his  motives;  she  trusted  him,  and  that  was 
to  her  enough. 

"I  shall  be  home  early  to-day,  Yasuko,"  said  Ika- 
mon as  he  parted,  bowing  politely  to  his  wife,  and 
started  off  on  a  blustering  morning  in  March  to  at- 
tend to  some  official  duties  which  called  him  outside. 

"Then  Yasuko  is  happy,  and  will  abide  here  and 
look  until  you  come,"  said  she  in  answer. 

She  did  look,  for  he  had  never  deceived  her,  as  she 
knew;  and  she  saw  the  most  frightful  thing,  and  fell 
to  the  floor  weeping  bitterly.  Her  husband  did  not 
return ;  but  in  passing  the  Sakurado  gate  had  been  set 
upon  by  the  ronin,  and,  without  any  chance  of  defence 
or  escape,  beheaded ;  and  his  head  placed  upon  a  long 
pole,  carried  high  in  the  air,  was  planted  at  his  door. 

This  gruesome  sight  greeted  Yasuko  when  she 
looked  out  along  the  roadway  where  she  had  so  often 
watched  her  husband's  coming  and  welcomed  his 


Ronin  Raids  221 

entrance.  So  swift  had  been  the  work  of  his  assail- 
ants that  none  could  offer  resistance  or  interfere  until 
the  deed  had  been  accomplished  and  the  warning 
carried  into  the  midst  of  his  own  household.  There 
they  staked  their  trophy  high  in  the  air,  and  departing 
made  so  good  their  escape  that  no  one  knew  until  a 
later  day  who  had  done  the  hideous  work. 

The  removal  of  Ikamon  proved  an  effective  blow  to 
his  policy,  and  brought  about  a  speedy  reorganisation 
of  the  party.  Hitotsubashi's  regency  was  made  cer- 
tain, and  Daikomitsu  with  little  opposition  chosen 
prime  minister;  in  fact,  the  latter  had  been  decided 
upon  by  the  former  incumbent's  enemies  before  the 
butchery  occurred. 

The  main  opposition,  however,  came  from  Tetsu- 
taisho,  though  Ikamon's  absence  left  him  illy  prepared 
to  cope  with  the  opposition  in  the  council  chamber  or 
at  the  lobby.  Still  he  developed  sufficient  strength 
to  maintain  his  own  position  and  wrest  from  them, 
finally,  his  promotion  to  commander-in-chief  of  all 
the  shogun's  forces.  In  this  he  was  considered  for- 
tunate; and  even  he,  himself,  deemed  his  place  more 
secure  under  the  new  regime  than  under  the  old.  He 
reasoned  that  it  could  not  have  been  long  before 
Ikamon's  downfall  would  have  come  from  another 
source,  and  in  that  event  he  would  himself,  perhaps, 
have  been  less  able  to  force  recognition  as  a  result  of 
his  own  strength.  He  had  grown  wiser  with  experi- 
ence, and  no  longer  desired  particularly  to  fly  at  the 
tail  of  another  man's  kite.  Daikomitsu  had  early 
learned  that  Tetsutaisho  was  a  friend  of  the  army  and 
they  his  main  supporters,  and  of  late  made  every  en- 
deavour to  cultivate  the  popular  general's  friendship. 
He  had  always  taken  pains  not  to  give  Tetsutaisho 


222  Shibusawa 

the  impression  that  he  himself  rivalled  the  latter's 
brother-in-law;  but  on  the  contrary  had  assumed 
such  a  plausible  friendship  to  both  that  the  liberal- 
minded  commander  never  really  knew  the  secret  of 
the  wise  man's  success. 

Yet,  with  all  his  tolerance,  he  did  not  care  to  trust 
the  new  prime  minister  too  much.  He  lacked  con- 
fidence in  his  ability  and  remained  not  at  all  sanguine 
as  to  his  motives;  still  he  would  not  let  any  man's 
preferment  stand  between  him  and  his  shogun's  gov- 
ernment. Loyalty  was  his  watchword,  and  honour,  as 
measured  by  feudal  standards,  his  virtue;  neither  of 
which,  from  his  way  of  thinking,  could  possibly  be 
attained  outside  of  the  shogunate. 

Position  he  had;  for  wealth  he  cared  not.  His 
friends  he  worshipped;  to  his  enemies  he  gave  no 
quarter.  He  lived  for  the  love  of  living,  and  believed 
the  mode  made  right  the  result.  So  far  as  he  knew 
his  own  advancement  had  come  more  as  a  matter  of 
consequence  than  as  a  reward  for  effort.  He  con- 
sidered himself  amenable  to  established  law,  and  such 
a  thing  as  a  shogun's  wrong-doing  had  no  place  in  the 
mind  of  Tetsutaisho. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 

THE    RISE    OF    SHIBUSAWA 

THE  untimely  death  of  Ikamon  caused  little 
regret,  even  at  Tokyo;  no  attempt  was  made  to 
apprehend  his  murderers,  and  Daikomitsu  settled 
down,  satisfied  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  emoluments. 
Shibusawa  remained  without  his  sphere  and  Takara 
soon  ceased  to  supersede  the  ease  and  comfort  flow- 
ing from  official  complaisance.  The  new  policy  en- 
couraged quietude,  but  lacked  stability,  and  only, 
perhaps,  Shibusawa  fathomed  the  true  cause  for 
unrest. 

Yet,  being  unprepared,  he  could  take  no  part  in  its 
effective  solution.  Like  his  father  before  him  he  had 
held  himself  aloof  as  much  as  possible  from  the  tur- 
moils of  state,  devoting  his  energies  to  internal  se- 
curity and  improvement;  not  because  of  seeking  to 
shirk  his  duties,  but  that  he  might  better  prepare  him- 
self for  the  responsibilities.  He  knew  in  his  own 
heart  that  from  the  day  Perry's  guns  first  sounded  in 
the  harbour  the  foreigner  had  secured  a  permanent 
foothold,  and  that  with  him  he  had  brought  a  new 
life,  the  introduction  of  which  meant  more  to  them 
than  all  the  family  quarrels  and  local  measures  of  all 
the  centuries  that  had  gone  before. 

Not  only  this,  but  he  saw  that  in  adapting  them- 
selves to  the  new  relations  feudalism  must  go,  and 
with  it  there  would  and  should  fall  some  of  the  evil 
tendencies  of  the  day ;  none  disapproved  by  him  more 

223 


224  Shibusawa 

than  that  of  class  limitation  upon  marriage.  He  had 
come  to  believe  the  home  the  foundation  of  all  organ- 
ised society,  and  held  that  as  it  harmonised  the  affini- 
ties of  life  so  government  should  make  possible  the 
highest  beauties  consistent  with  universality;  and  as 
time  went  on  repeated  confirmations  of  his  views  so 
strengthened  his  belief  that  he  began  to  search  for  a 
means  of  absorbing  as  much  of  the  new  civilisation 
as  might  be  forced  upon  them,  or  as  should  seem 
beneficial,  without  losing  in  any  measure  their  own 
autonomy.  Finally  he  had  abandoned  all  hope  in 
the  shogunate  and,  in  consequence,  begun  to  look 
toward  the  mikadate.  It  seemed  his  only  natural 
alternative;  possibly  the  most  logical  one. 

Daikomitsu  on  the  other  hand  found  himself  more 
completely  submerged  in  the  shogunate  than  he  at  first 
anticipated.  He  had  intended  to  rid  himself  of  the 
ronin,  but  not  until  their  attack  upon  the  foreign  lega- 
tion at  Tokyo  did  he  succeed,  emerging  with  a  com- 
plete vindication  of  his  true  diplomatic  qualities.  He 
had  not  only  effectually  cleared  the  country  of  these 
desperadoes,  but  placed  himself  upon  a  high  pedestal, 
and  even  Tetsutaisho  began  to  admire  him,  though  he 
could  not  fully  respect  him. 

During  the  transition  stage,  lasting  from  Daikomit- 
su's  accession  to  the  death  of  Komei,  Shibusawa  had 
ample  time  to  prepare  for  the  work  himself  planned 
or  by  others  thrust  upon  him.  These  were  trying 
times;  this  a  patient,  energetic,  and  ambitious  people, 
and  not  alone  fate,  but  fortune  proved  a  moving 
force  behind  their  destiny.  From  the  first  Takara's 
hand  had  been  felt,  though  Shibusawa  knew  it  not. 
She  developed  among  the  adherents  of  the  south  a 
strength  that  gave  her  voice  in  the  councils  shadow- 


The  Rise  of  Shibusawa  225 

ing  the  court  at  Kyoto,  and  she  used  it  to  advance  a 
single  purpose  —  the  only  one,  as  she  thought,  con- 
sistent with  her  duties  as  a  wife  and  her  position  as  a 
kuge  —  furthering  the  cause  of  her  husband  and 
building  the  fortunes  of  the  mikado. 

Gradually  though  unconsciously  this  influence  be- 
gan to  be  felt  by  Shibusawa,  and  before  he  knew  it  he 
had  gone  so  far  into  national  affairs  that  he  needs 
must  play  an  important  part.  Nor  did  he  give  him- 
self solely  to  political  matters,  for  Kinsan  remained 
ever  before  him;  and  though  without  possible  com- 
munication he  loved  her  constantly  and  truly.  He 
saw  in  her  more  and  more  the  ideal  of  existence,  the 
soul  of  the  universe,  the  crowning  glory  of  all  that  is. 
He  longed  for  her  and  had  he  the  power  would  have 
sought  her  and  claimed  her  and  taken  her,  even  though 
his  former  convictions  had  been  true  or  remained  un- 
contradicted.  Without  knowing  her  sacrifices,  some- 
thing told  him  that  her  heart  was  true,  and  he  asked 
of  himself : 

"After  all,  of  what  consequence  is  the  flesh?" 

Taking  advantage  of  a  measure  enacted  early  under 
Daikomitsu's  incumbency,  authorising  the  daimyos 
and  princes  of  the  blood  to  remove  their  families  and 
lawful  kin  from  the  capital,  Shibusawa  asked  his  sister 
Yasuko  to  come  to  him,  and  though  still  mourning 
the  loss  of  her  husband  she  accepted  the  invitation 
and  proved  to  be  a  great  consolation  to  her  brother, 
they  becoming  fast  and  true  friends  and  she  a  liberal 
adviser.  In  her  he  found  a  companionship  that 
helped  him  through  the  many  events  leading  up  to  his 
call  to  the  front,  though  in  no  measure  did  it  deter 
him  from  shaping  a  course  toward  his  high  ideal. 

The  mikado  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  send  an 


226  Shibusawa 

embassy  to  Europe  and  America  to  examine  and 
report  conditions,  while  the  shogun  had  in  person 
conferred  with  his  highness  at  Kyoto.  The  latter 
event  resolved  itself  into  a  proposal  by  the  mikado 
that  the  shogun  accompany  him  on  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  temple  Hachiman  at  Yamashiro,  that  he  might 
deliver  his  own  sword  to  the  mighty  war  god  Ojin, 
thus  inducing  his  celestial  mightiness  to  drive  out 
the  "barbarian  foreigners";  at  which  the  shogun 
somewhat  reluctantly  expressed  his  indisposition  to 
join  in  such  a  hazardous  undertaking,  thereupon  re- 
tiring to  his  own  stronghold ;  never  again  proposing  or 
sanctioning  a  conference  with  his  "heavenly  brother- 
in-power." 

Shortly  after  this,  possibly  for  the  purpose  of  en- 
couraging a  breach  between  the  two  courts,  several 
of  the  southern  daimyos,  together  with  Saigo,  Iwa- 
kura,  and  some  other  kuge  attempted  to  carry  off  to 
the  southward  the  person  of  the  mikado,  and  were 
prevented  in  their  daring  scheme  only  by  the  timely 
interference  of  Shibusawa.  He  had  been  urged  into 
taking  the  step  by  Takara  through  the  auspices  of 
Kido,  and  for  the  heroism  displayed  gained  high 
esteem  at  Kyoto;  the  schemers  themselves  coming 
gradually  to  respect  him  and  Saigo  to  believe  in  him. 
Henceforth  Shibusawa  attended  their  councils  and 
his  voice  rose  to  be  felt,  while  Takara  began  to  wor- 
ship him,  and  used  all  her  energies  and  influence  to 
further  his  friendship  with  the  mikado  and  raise  his 
standing  in  the  south. 

Soon  after,  the  Shimonoseki  affair  once  more  roused 
the  country ;  and  the  report  of  the  foreign  embassy 
maddened  them.  They  had  returned  and  said  in 
substance : 


The  Rise  of  Shibusawa  227 

"  We  are  the  barbarians! " 

In  consequence  of  this,  as  the  mikado  remarked, 
"  foolish  report,"  the  embassy  were  forthwith  re- 
primanded and  deprived  of  office  ;  the  mikado 
declaring : 

"Diabolical  spirits  rule  in  this  land  of  the  gods, 
intending  to  do  away  with  customs  dear  to  us.  They 
must  forthwith  be  driven  out." 

Nor  was  he  alone  in  his  belief,  for  before  the  close 
of  the  season  his  rabid  adherents  rallied  and  defeated 
a  detachment  of  the  shogun's  army  sent  against  them; 
encouraging  the  mikado  to  issue  the  famous  edict 
against  the  Christians,  whereby  more  than  three 
thousand  converts  fell  victims  to  its  bane  and  were 
distributed  among  the  daimyos  as  slaves  at  common 
labour.  Nor  were  they  protected  by  the  shogun  nor 
greatly  mourned  by  their  friends;  the  dislike  of  the 
foreigners  had  become  so  rooted  that  even  the  shogun- 
ate  seemed  a  crumbling  structure  ready  to  fall  at  the 
first  organised  assault.  The  revolt  spread;  but,  at  the 
call  of  a  new  leader,  who  raised  the  banner  of  right 
shorn  of  weakness  and  purged  of  the  last  taint  of  big- 
otry and  dark  mysticism. 

Shibusawa  proved  the  man  of  the  hour,  and  he 
brought  honesty  and  intelligence  to  the  rally  of  cour- 
age and  patriotism.  He  arose  in  his  power,  put  a 
check  upon  blind  impulse,  and  set  in  motion  the 
forces  that  were  to  start  the  wheels  of  progress,  to 
open  the  way  to  a  place  in  the  sisterhood  of  nations. 
Addressing  a  letter  to  the  mikado  he  said: 

"The  western  foreigners  of  to-day  are  different 
from  those  of  a  former  day.  They  are  much  more 
advanced  and  powerful ;  the  conflict  is  an  unequal  one, 
and  Japan  will  be  shattered  like  roofing  tile.  The 


228  Shibusawa 

cry  that  reaches  you  comes  from  those  who  do  not 
understand;  it  is  a  misfortune  longer  to  attempt  to 
close  our  doors.  Instead  let  us  devote  ourselves  to 
house-building,  husbandry,  forestry,  jurisprudence, 
and  science,  and  the  benefits  derived  will  more  than 
offset  the  loss  sustained  at  the  hands  of  the  foreigners. 
There  is  a  better  way  to  meet  their  aggression  than  by 
resort  to  force,  and  if  your  majesty  will  so  permit  we 
pledge  ourselves  to  serve  you,  the  divine  and  rightful 
ruler  of  this  land." 

The  letter  had  its  effect,  and  thenceforth  there 
were  but  two  parties,  both  of  which  tolerated  the 
foreigner,  and  with  one  of  which  every  loyal  citizen 
must  sooner  or  later  cast  his  fortunes.  In  the  follow- 
ing autumn  lyemochi  died,  and  Hitotsubashi  pro- 
claimed his  successor,  began  to  discharge  the  offices  of 
shogun,  as  the  vacillating  tool  of  the  strongest  trium- 
virate that  had  yet  undertaken  to  rehabilitate  the 
waning  powers  of  a  rapidly  fading  court. 

Hitotsubashi  proved  an  easy  dupe  and  ready  lis- 
tener by  turns  to  Daikomitsu,  Okotsuba,  and  Tetsu- 
taisho,  the  three  ministers  who  were  destined  to  guide 
the  fortunes  of  the  tottering  shogunate  till  the  last 
faint  quiver  told  of  its  final  collapse,  while  Mutsuhito, 
succeeding  the  deceased  mikado,  Komie,  in  the  fol- 
lowing spring,  began  that  series  of  brilliant  moves 
which  welded  together  the  hearts  of  his  people  and 
secured  to  him  his  rightful  position  as  supreme  and 
undivided  ruler  of  his  country.  From  this  time  forth 
the  mikadate  were  united  upon  one  thing  —  the 
downfall  of  the  shogunate.  They  had  had  enough  of 
dual  government,  with  its  intrigues  and  dangers  — 
if  glorious  —  and  the  liberal  Mutsuhito  pledged  him- 
self to  the  constitution,  by  which  Shibusawa  had  pro- 


The  Rise  of  Shibusawa  229 

posed  the  people's  rights,  and  for  which  he  gave  his 
undivided  support. 

The  time  had  come  to  strike,  and  when  Shibusawa 
proposed  in  open  council  that  Kido  be  instructed  to 
address  a  letter  to  Hitotsubashi  as  shogun,  Saigo  rose 
and  asked  its  purport.  Shibusawa  answered: 

"Advise  the  shogun  to  abdicate  in  favour  of  the 
mikado." 

A  stillness  settled  over  the  chamber,  then  a  roar  of 
applause  burst  forth  such  as  had  never  before  been 
heard.  The  giant  Saigo  thundered  his  approval, 
white-haired  men  leaped  in  the  air,  and  everybody 
shouted : 

"Long  live  the  mikado  !  " 

The  letter,  demanding  an  immediate  answer,  forth- 
with reached  the  hands  of  Daikomitsu,  who,  startled 
with  the  warning,  repaired  to  the  temple  of  Shiba, 
and  there  prayed  to  Omikami  for  light,  that  he  might 
not  "stumble  in  the  darkness."  Acting  upon  the 
advice  of  this  good  goddess  he  laid  the  matter  before 
his  associates  in  the  triumvirate,  resulting  in  a  divi- 
sion of  opinion. 

Tetsutaisho  was  a  samurai,  and  none  such  ever 
dreamed  of  defeat.  A  thousand  years  of  feudalism 
had  well  taught  them  their  profession.  Continued 
success  made  them  believe  themselves  invincible. 
The  shogun  was  their  idol  and  war  their  deliverance. 
Thus  the  commander-in-chief  urged  the  sho gun's  de- 
fence, and  would  not  agree  to  any  other  means  than 
force.  He  was  overruled  and  a  more  diplomatic 
course  proposed,  yet  he  sulked  and  withheld  approval. 
Tetsutaisho  had  assented  to  Hitotsubashi 's  assump- 
tion of  the  functions  of  shogun  because  he  believed  it 
necessary ;  and  he  was  perfectly  willing  that  he  should 


230  Shibusawa 

be  held  and  used  as  a  dupe,  but  this  letter  from  the 
south  appeared  to  be  a  direct  attack  upon  the  sho- 
gunate,  and  no  matter  who  was  shogun  he  believed  it 
high  time  to  strike  rather  than  quibble.  Daikomitsu 
answered : 

"A  resignation  from  Hitotsubashi,  an  incumbent, 
can  in  no  manner  affect  the  shogunate,  an  established 
institution.  If  the  people  want  to  continue  the  one 
they  will  restore  the  other,  besides  such  an  act  would 
forever  put  the  question  out  of  our  way.  It  would 
also  confuse  and  baffle  the  opposition,  thus  giving  us 
time  to  prepare  an  effective  defence." 

"But  we  are  prepared,"  answered  Tetsutaisho. 

"I  doubt  it." 

"Then  you  distrust  the  samurai?" 

"No." 

"What  then?" 

"Hitotsubashi." 

"He  has  no  following." 

"He  has  friends,  and  we  can  best  insure  their  sup- 
port and  the  enemies'  confusion  by  advising  this  resig- 
nation. They  dread  us  more  than  him." 

"The  opposition  has  given  us  a  splendid  chance," 
interposed  Okotsuba. 

"And  we  are  wasting  our  opportunities,"  answered 
Tetsutaisho. 

"We  have  no  cause  to  move;  we  do  not  recognise 
the  combination,"  said  Daikomitsu. 

"The  resignation  will  test  their  purpose.  I  say  let 
us  send  it  forthwith,"  said  Okotsuba,  recognising  the 
force  of  Daikomitsu's  argument. 

"I  recommend  it,"  said  Daikomitsu,  earnestly. 

"I  do  not  approve  of  it,"  answered  Tetsutaisho 
resolutely. 


The  Rise  of  Shibusawa  231 

Upon  the  theory  that  his  resignation  would  not  in 
fact  be  accepted,  Hitotsubashi  finally  signed  the  letter 
of  resignation;  whereupon,  without  any  serious  dis- 
sension, it  was  forwarded  to  Kyoto,  and  Daikomitsu 
felt  relieved,  though  puzzled  as  to  what  the  next  move 
would  be. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 
NEHACHIBANA'S  REVENGE 

TETSUTAISHO,  not  at  all  pleased  with  the  result 
of  the  conference  nor  convinced  of  the  wisdom 
of  Daikomitsu's  diplomacy,  had  been  persuaded 
quietly  to  acquiesce,  at  least  for  the  time  being;  and 
going  home  settled  down,  probably  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  to  a  calm  and  deliberate  consideration  for 
the  future.  Presently  he  became  uneasy  and,  with 
unsettled  thoughts,  said  to  himself: 

"Pshaw!     Why  this  worry?     Let  others  stew  and 
fuss:  I  am  a  soldier,  and  have  a  better  business  at 
hand.     I  shall  seek  Kinsan  and  let  her  sing  to  me  — 
it  is  soothing,  and  more  to  the  purpose  of  a  gentle- 
man." 

He  did  so,  and  she  impressed  him  more  than  ever 
with  the  melody  of  her  song.  Probably  it  was  be- 
cause of  the  clear,  crisp  air  of  a  winter's  night's  in- 
spiration; more  likely  it  had  been  a  consciousness  of 
her  master's  growing  gentleness,  or  the  hope  within 
that  some  day  her  heart  would  soften  and  her  mind 
cease  its  vigil.  Whatever  it  may  have  been,  she 
poured  out  that  lofty  sentiment  that  ever  eases  a 
lonely,  earnest  soul.  She  sang  sweetly,  and  the 
rising  notes  wafted  out  upon  the  still  air,  reaching  and 
piercing  another  who  had  grown  to  hate  with  the 
vengeance  and  covet  with  the  fury  of  a  maddened 
fiend. 

Nehachibana  listened.     She  could  bear  it  no  longer, 
232 


Nehachibana's  Revenge  233 

and  with  bated  breath  and  snapping  fingers  stole 
upon  them.  There  in  the  bright  light  she  saw  them, 
and  stopped  as  if  drunk  with  envy.  He  sat  with  his 
face  upturned;  Kinsan  stood  at  one  side,  looking  far, 
far  away,  and  her  voice  trembled  with  a  pathos  that 
stayed  even  her  destroyer.  Nehachibana  crouched, 
then  sprang  at  her,  shrieking: 

' '  Geisha !     Adulteress !     Murderer ! ' ' 

The  sudden  fright  overcame  Kinsan;  she  ceased 
singing,  then  choked  for  breath  and  stood  trembling, 
with  her  head  drooping;  she  coloured,  then  turned 
ashen. 

Tetsutaisho  arose  and  advancing  toward  his  wife 
said  in  a  calm  voice: 

"What  do  you  mean,  Nehachibana?" 

"That  joro  is  the  murderer  of  your  child,  Soda- 
chinojoi!  I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes." 

Turning  upon  Kinsan,  but  without  advancing,  Tet- 
sutaisho said  harshly: 

"Is  this  true?" 

Kinsan  made  no  answer,  nor  did  she  raise  her  eyes, 
but  stood  nervously  toying  with  the  folds  of  her  obie. 
Perhaps  she  did  not  hear  him,  heeded  only  his  neg- 
lect. Why  did  he  not  turn  to  her  as  he  had  so  often 
done,  and  soothe  her  with  his  kind  words  and  shield 
her  from  her  accuser?  The  question  burned  at  her 
already  aching  heart,  and  no  one  answered. 

Tetsutaisho,  turning  around  politely,  said  to  Ne- 
hachibana : 

"Please  retire  to  your  own  apartment  and  there 
wait  my  coming.  I  shall  want  further  to  converse 
with  you  this  evening.  Obey  me  and  go  now,  will 
you?" 

Nehachibana  made  no  protest,  but  departed  as  bid- 


234  Shibusawa 

den,  glancing  sidewise  at  Kinsan;  her  eyes  sparkled, 
her  lip  curled,  and  she  smiled  the  secret  of  her  heart. 
Kinsan  neither  spoke  to  her  nor  pleaded  with  her,  but 
looked  at  Nehachibana  with  softened  eyes,  and  a 
great  pity  welled  up  from  the  bottom  of  her  heart. 

After  Nehachibana  had  left  the  room  Tetsutaisho 
approached  Kinsan  and  said  with  low  emphasis: 

"And  this  is  how  you  have  served  your  master?" 

Again  she  did  not  answer;  it  was  because  she  could 
not.  She  only  sobbed  with  a  broken  heart.  Tetsu- 
taisho clapped  his  hands  and  a  servant  came  quickly 
toward  him. 

"The  guards!  "  said  he;  then  calmly  stood  surveying 
his  victim. 

He  had  but  a  short  time  to  wait  until  they  came, 
though  it  served  Tetsutaisho  to  cover  well  in  his 
heated  memory  the  last  few  years.  Likely  Kinsan 
did  the  same,  but  hers  was  a  different  mood.  He  did 
not  ask  himself  the  reason,  and  consulted  only  im- 
pulse; he  may  have  let  hatred  enter  his  heart,  for  he 
now  began  to  suspect  as  well  as  doubt  his  once  upon  a 
time  passing  friend,  Daikomitsu. 

From  the  time  Daikomitsu  first  came  into  official 
position  at  Tokyo  he  had  been  a  constant  if  not 
wholly  welcome  guest  at  Tetsutaisho 's  house.  From 
the  beginning  he  had  divined  Nehachibana's  master 
passion,  and  always  tried  as  best  he  could  to  relieve 
her  hard  distress.  He  had  also  observed  Kinsan  and 
cultivated  her  friendship,  not  that  he  loved  her,  but 
because  he  admired  her  wonderful  gift.  He,  a  patron 
of  art  and  lover  of  the  beautiful,  quickly  appreciated 
Kinsan's  powers,  and  instinctively  knew  and  respected 
her  virtue.  That  Nehachibana  was  entirely  wrong  in 
her  attitude  toward  Kinsan  he  had  been  fully  con- 


Nehachibana's  Revenge  235 

vinced,  and  long  hoped  sometime  to  advise  the  one 
of  her  false  impressions  and  relieve  the  other  of  her 
natural  predicament.  Thus  he  had  become  a  familiar 
visitor,  and  his  attentions  were  bestowed  no  less  upon 
the  one  than  the  other.  Tetsutaisho  had  never 
frowned  upon  any  of  these  courtesies,  in  fact  rather 
encouraged  them,  feeling  honoured  by  the  prime 
minister's  warm  attentions.  He  had,  consequently, 
upon  more  than  one  occasion,  freely  given  Daiko- 
mitsu  the  loan  of  Kinsan  to  sing  at  entertainments  of 
high  degree ;  and  however  vulgar  the  southern  prince 
may  have  been  in  other  ways,  and  whatever  may  have 
been  Tetsutaisho 's  conclusions  at  this  late  day,  the 
former's  intercourse  with  the  latter's  family  certainly 
had  been  of  the  purest  and  most  honourable  kind. 

By  the  time  the  guards  had  arrived  Tetsutaisho  had 
worked  himself  up  to  the  proper  degree  of  feeling, 
however,  and  without  further  ado  pointed  to  Kinsan, 
saying  in  a  commanding  tone  of  voice : 

"To  the  dungeon!" 

As  she  was  being  hurried  from  the  house  Tetsutaisho 
turned  his  back  upon  the  one  he  had  so  long  coveted, 
and  hastened  to  his  wife,  nervously  listening  to  her 
clear  and  unequivocal  denunciation.  She  told  him 
without  a  blush  how  she  had  come  upon  Kinsan  while 
in  the  act  of  flinging  the  sleeping  child  into  the  dark 
crevice,  and  how  she  had  suffered  through  all  these 
years  with  fear,  and  how  she  had  hesitated  to  disclose 
to  him  her  knowledge  of  the  awful  deed  because  she 
believed  his  love  for  Kinsan  would  bring  a  punish- 
ment upon  herself. 

"You  will  forgive  me,  my  most  honourable  hus- 
band, will  you  not?"  said  she,  calmly  and  invitingly. 

He  did  not  deign  to  answer  her,  though  his  strong 


236  Shibusawa 

frame  trembled  as  an  ungoverned  rage  leaped  to  the 
fore  and  grew  within  him.  For  Nehachibana  he  had 
no  compassion;  nothing  but  regret.  He  mourned 
his  lost  son,  and  waxed  hot  with  anger. 

"She  shall  die,  and  that  by  the  saw!"  said  he,  in  a 
half-crazed  undertone. 

"  No,  no ;  give  me  the  chance ;  I'll  devise  a  torment! " 
said  Nehachibana,  quickly. 

"You?     And  why  you?" 

Nehachibana  stared  blankly.  She  did  not  com- 
prehend. She  had  no  answer.  He  looked  at  her 
and  for  the  first  time  realised  the  truth.  He  knew  in 
a  moment  the  awful  consequences  of  his  life.  He 
would  then  have  recalled  Kinsan,  but  the  loss  of  his 
only  son  was  more  than  he  could  bear;  without  a 
thought  of  further  inquiry  he  believed  her  guilty;  if 
not  of  murder  then  of  unfaithfulness,  and  according 
to  his  code  either  gave  sufficient  cause;  her  punish- 
ment must  follow  as  the  only  lawful  consequence. 

Thus  he  parted  with  Nehachibana  without  further 
denial  or  assurance,  and  she  felt  happy  and  satisfied 
with  her  revenge;  and  when  Daikomitsu  called  the 
next  evening,  she  made  haste  to  express  her  delight, 
offering  no  pretence  of  shielding  Kinsan's  wicked  fate. 
The  prime  minister  was  shocked  at  her  lack  of  feeling, 
and  listened  to  her  with  astonishment;  she  did  not 
stop  with  revelling  at  Kinsan's  sorrow,  but  lauded  the 
infant  of  whom  she  knew  her  husband  to  be  the  father, 
and  flattered  herself  at  the  thought  of  its  highborn 
mother. 

Daikomitsu  sat  dumfoundered  and  full  of  pity 
until  his  informant  volunteered  to  disclose  the  name 
of  Sodachinojoi's  mother,  then  he  started  and  with 
frightened  voice  said: 


Nehachibana's  Revenge  237 

"  Nehachibana!     You  must  cease  gabbling." 
"A-h-!"  said  she,  with  a  drawled  accent. 
"Promise  me  that  you  will  never  again  mention 
Takara's  name.     Will  you  do  this  much  for  me?" 
said  he  nervously. 

She  snapped  her  fingers  fiercely,  and  without 
taking  her  eyes  away  said,  slowly: 
"I  shall  not  speak  her  name  again." 
Daikomitsu  knew  that  her  promise  would  never  be 
broken,  and  went  his  way  somewhat  relieved,  yet 
overwhelmed ;  for  he  also  knew  that  what  she  related 
as  a  fact  must  likewise  be  true  —  such  an  one  never 
mistaking  a  truth  or  breaking  a  promise,  when  made 
or  known.  Nor  was  he  alone  shocked  at  the  revela- 
tion of  Takara's  dreadful  secret ;  he  felt  equally  pained 
at  Kinsan's  misfortune.  The  former  he  would  take 
time  to  consider,  but  the  latter  he  should  right  at  once; 
else  suffer  a  great  wrong  to  befall  not  only  her,  but 
Nehachibana  and  Tetsutaisho  as  well. 

On  the  following  day  the  prime  minister  sent  post- 
haste for  Tetsutaisho,  asking  him  to  come  at  once  to 
his  house,  then  approaching  him  kindly,  advised  that 
he  forego  so  severe  a  punishment,  at  least  until  time 
should  make  its  justice  certain. 

"And  you  would  also  interfere  with  our  private 
affairs?  What  next  may  not  a  gentleman  expect? 
Pray  tell  me,"  said  Tetsutaisho  rather  sarcastically. 

"No.     I  thought  possibly  the  motherhood  of  this 
child  might   sometime   be   questioned   by   a   higher 
power,  and  in  that  case  my  friend  Tetsutaisho  might 
have  serious  need   for  this  Kinsan  whom    he  has  so 
lightly  condemned,"  said  Daikomitsu,  in  answer. 
"Then  you  know  as  much?" 
"I  would  rather  that  you  should  be  the  judge." 


238  Shibusawa 

"Very  well;  I  shall  place  her  in  the  stocks.     It  will 
answer  my  purpose  quite  as  well  and,  now  that  I  come 
to  think,  it  may  be  a  more  befitting  punishment  — 
and,   also,  a  convenience  to  you.     You  can  better 
visit  her  in  my  back  yard,  Daikomitsu." 

"I  may  do  so  —  to  see  that  Tetsutaisho  is  as  faith- 
ful in  granting  her  that  liberty  as  he  has  been  punctual 
in  making  me  the  promise." 

"Tetsutaisho  is  a  man  of  honour." 

"I  believe  it,  else  I  should  have  sought  another 
means." 

Tetsutaisho  was  not  so  much  mystified  at  Daiko- 
mitsu's  request  as  overawed  with  the  apparent  threat, 
for  he  knew  the  prime  minister  to  be  a  favourite  with 
the  shogun  and  did  not  wish  just  yet  to  put  to  a  test 
their  respective  strength  before  that  tribunal;  and 
could  easily  infer  from  his  words  a  determination  to 
go  even  so  far.  Nor  did  he  court  the  idea  of  ex- 
posure, particularly  at  Kyoto;  by  this  time  knowing 
Takara  to  be  quite  as  anxious  as  he,  and  feeling 
that  he  must  shield  her  at  any  cost.  Thus  he  had 
hastily  concluded  to  delay  Kinsan's  destruction,  and 
gratify  the  law's  permit  by  meting  out  a  meaner 
penalty. 

On  the  next  day,  therefore,  the  frail  Kinsan  with 
downcast  eyes  and  haggard  appearance  was  turned 
loose  in  the  back  grounds  of  her  master's  dwelling, 
there  to  carry,  day  and  night,  through  rain  or  sun- 
shine, the  heavy  stocks,  clasped  about  her  neck  and 
weighted  upon  her  tender  shoulders. 

And  there,  taunted  and  alone,  she  bore  her  punish- 
ment without  a  murmur,  and  sinking  exhausted  at 
night  always  offered  prayers  for  the  one  she  loved,  and 
for  those  whom  she  believed  she  had  wronged  and  who 


Nehachibana's  Revenge  239 

had  in  charity  granted  her  the  privilege  of  even  such  an 
existence.  Having  already  suffered  in  her  own  heart 
far  more  than  death,  now  that  the  day's  penalty  had 
been  imposed,  she  felt  better  able  to  bear  her  part; 
and  was  glad  for  life,  though  bitter  it  be,  that  she 
might  atone  for  the  wickedness  with  which  she  un- 
knowingly held  herself  charged. 

Nor  did  she  suffer  only  from  the  weight  of  the 
stocks,  but  often  felt  that  she  must  starve  for  want  of 
food,  and  her  mouth  parched  and  tongue  swelled,  for 
by  reason  of  the  wide  board  she  could  neither  feed 
herself  nor  raise  water  to  her  lips,  though  a  crystal 
stream  sparkled  and  flowed  at  her  feet,  where  she 
would  often  stand  and  look  until  she  fell  faint,  and 
almost  envied  the  little  birds  that  came  and  drank, 
then  perched  upon  the  plank  at  her  neck  and  sang 
songs  to  her  and  hopped  about  with  glee.  The  sun 
shone  hot  or  the  storm  beat  hard  upon  her;  the  flies 
and  gnats  pestered  her,  and  often  when  she  could  no 
longer  resist  sleep  the  rats  and  vermin  climbed  upon 
the  wide  board,  and  she  would  take  fright  and  arouse 
to  prevent  their  gnawing  at  her  face.  And  once, 
while  exhausted  with  hunger  and  faint  with  thirst, 
Nehachibana  came  up  to  her  and  mocked  her  and 
gave  her  red  peppers  to  eat  and  threw  water  at  her 
feet,  then  ran  away. 

All  this  Kinsan  suffered  until  about  to  despair, 
when  a  little  friend  came  to  her,  —  it  was  the  daughter 
of  Mrs.  Lindley  the  missionary,  —  after  which  she  had 
regular  food  and  drink,  and  felt  thankful,  though  it  was 
scant  and  strangely  prepared.  The  jeers  of  the  chil- 
dren did  not  provoke  her  and  she  bore  all  the  cruelties 
without  a  protest ;  and  at  night  the  doleful  sound  of 
the  massagist's  whistle  kept  her  company  —  stealing 


240  Shibusawa 

along  the  streets,  plying  his  blind,  nocturnal  trade. 
And  then  she  would  sleep  and  dream  of  the  cave  up 
yonder  on  the  hillside  not  far  away  and  of  the  days 
when  she  gave  her  heart  in  truth  and  builded  her  faith 
upon  hope  alone. 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

MOBILISING    THE    SAMURAI 

DAIKOMITSU  took  pains  to  see  for  himself  that 
Tetsutaisho  had  kept  his  word  with  reference  to 
Kinsan's  punishment,  then  without  further  attention 
devoted  himself  to  the  arduous  duties  rapidly  crowd- 
ing around  him.  He  felt  that  Takara's  secret  rested 
safe  for  the  present,  therefore  did  not  worry  much 
about  her,  although  the  knowledge  of  her  failure  had 
been  a  severe  blow  to  him.  There  were  other  things 
needing  his  attention  more  than  a  private  affair, 
and  as  he  had  never  been  an  extremely  ardent  lover 
it  did  not  entail  any  great  sacrifice  on  his  part  to  put 
thoughts  of  Takara  aside  and  busy  himself  with 
matters  more  urgent. 

Rumours  coming  in  daily  from  the  south  made  it 
more  and  more  apparent  that  sooner  or  later  a  deter- 
mined resistance  would  be  offered  to  the  mandates  of 
the  shogun,  no  matter  who  the  incumbent  or  what 
the  purport  of  their  recent  letter  might  be.  Yet  the 
shogunate  had  in  no  wise  prepared  to  meet  it,  and  the 
delay  hoped  for  as  a  result  of  the  frank  and  unequivo- 
cal resignation  of  Hitotsubashi  was  much  needed  by 
Daikomitsu  and  Okotsuba  in  making  a  last  heroic 
effort  to  gather  and  utilise  the  fragments  of  their 
strength.  Tetsutaisho  took  no  active  part  in  these 
endeavours,  neither  did  he  offer  any  strong  resistance 
or  disencouragement ;  nor  was  his  failure  at  that  time 
so  much  felt.  He  was  a  fighter,  not  an  organiser; 


242  Shibusawa 

still  his  actions  had  a  bad  influence  upon  the  samurai 
(which  constituted  the  shogun's  army),  as  it  also  em- 
barrassed the  remaining  members  of  the  triumvirate 
in  the  use  of  a  free  hand  and  undisturbed  purpose. 
The  feeling  of  uncertainty  arising  from  his  indiffer- 
ence caused  more  hindrance  than  any  other,  and 
Daikomitsu  grew  puzzled  to  know  just  what  Tetsu- 
taisho  would  do  when  it  came  to  the  final  test. 

Both  Daikomitsu  and  Okotsuba  knew  very  well  that 
the  commander-in-chief's  influence  with  the  army 
rose  above  that  of  any  other  man,  and  that  without 
his  leadership  the  samurai  would  be  hard  to  hold  in- 
tact. Yet  they  could  not  think  of  surrendering 
entirely  to  his  careless  if  not  boastful  ideas,  so  they 
undertook  to  make  their  preparation  for  war  harmo- 
nise with  his  notions,  in  so  far  as  it  became  necessary 
in  order  to  hold  his  support. 

The  letter  containing  the  resignation,  upon  its 
arrival  at  Kyoto,  so  surprised  the  leaders  of  the  south- 
ern combination  that  they  forthwith  began  the  reor- 
ganisation of  the  government  upon  the  lines  laid  down 
at  a  previous  assembly  of  the  daimyos.  They  felt 
that  the  first  step  toward  a  complete  rehabilitation 
had  been  successfully  effected,  though  not  entirely 
secured  without  having  gained  the  sole  and  unquali- 
fied possession  of  the  person  of  the  mikado.  It  had 
been  a  universal  custom  for  the  shogun  to  keep  a  body 
of  samurai  posted  at  the  gate  of  the  Kyoto  palace  as 
a  safeguard  to  the  security  of  the  mikado,  and  now 
that  the  combination  looked  upon  the  latter  as  their 
sole  supreme  ruler  they  no  longer  deemed  it  safe  or 
desirable  to  intrust  in  any  measure  his  protection  to  a 
guard  of  the  enemy,  nor  to  allow  them  access  to  the 
palace. 


Mobilising  the  Samurai  243 

Hence  on  the  third  of  January  Saigo  seized  the  gates 
and  dismissed  the  detachment  of  samurai  there  sta- 
tioned, while  the  council  issued  in  the  name  of  the 
mikado,  an  edict  abolishing  the  office  of  shogun,  for- 
bidding the  bakufu  entrance  to  the  palace  enclosure, 
and  warning  all  against  interfering  in  any  way  with 
the  royal  court  or  council. 

It  came  as  an  unexpected  blow  to  the  shogun  and 
his  advisers,  thoroughly  convincing  them  that,  con- 
trary to  their  expectations,  Hitotsubashi's  resigna- 
tion had  been  promptly  accepted  and  positively  acted 
upon.  It  also  disabused  the  minds  of  the  trium- 
virate of  any  hope  of  their  being  recognised  by  the 
combination  at  Kyoto,  and  Daikomitsu  was  forced 
to  acknowlege  that  Hitotsubashi's  resignation  had 
been  considered  the  act  of  the  shogunate :  that  he  as 
well  as  the  adherents  of  the  Tokyo  court  would  be 
compelled  to  defend  with  arms  their  time-honoured 
institution.  The  last  hope  of  conciliation  had  been 
swept  away,  and  Daikomitsu,  if  not  his  associates, 
realised  that  it  had  come  to  a  battle  to  the  death, 
not  for  the  expulsion  of  the  foreigner,  but  for  the 
very  life  of  the  shogunate  itself. 

Immediately  upon  the  mikadate's  closing  of  the 
gates  at  Kyoto  and  declaring  the  shogunate  at  an 
end,  the  princes  Owara  and  Kii  had  been  despatched 
to  the  shogun  with  a  request  that  he  come  to  Kyoto , 
join  the  new  government,  and  receive  suitable  re- 
cognition and  position  thereunder.  The  shogun 
was  weak  and  unable  to  decide;  he  hesitated  and 
wavered  between  two  counsels,  for  there  now  de- 
veloped a  test  of  strength  between  Daikomitsu  and 
Tetsutaisho. 

As  usual,  however,  it  again  fell  to  the  lot  of  the 


244  Shibusawa 

army  to  determine.  Whatever  may  have  been  Dai- 
komitsu's  reasons — whether  a  recognition  of  the  inevi- 
table or  a  desire  to  obtain  the  best  terms  possible, 
or  whether  to  rid  themselves  of  the  cumbersome 
Hitotsubashi  —  he  continued  to  urge  the  shogun  to 
comply  with  the  mikado's  request  and  go  forthwith, 
peaceably  and  unattended  by  military  display,  and 
submit  himself  and  his  friends  to  the  reasonable  dis- 
position of  the  Kyoto  court.  Okotsuba,  in  command 
of  all  the  shogun's  navy,  gave  his  hearty  support  to 
Daikomitsu's  proposals,  and  Hitotsubashi  reluctantly 
consented,  forthwith  communicating  his  intention 
to  the  mikado's  envoy,  sending  back  to  Kyoto  his 
best  respects  and  hearty  assurances. 

Hitotsubashi  had  not  gone  though,  nor  was  he 
to  do  so  until  Tetsutaisho's  recommendations  had 
wrought  their  influence.  This  proud  samurai  had 
not  been  so  easily  convinced  of  the  wisdom  of  Daiko- 
mitsu's policy,  and  now  that  he  had  come  to  ques- 
tioning the  latter's  motives  he  began  quietly  to  break 
faith  with  the  triumvirate  and  to  approach  the  vacil- 
lating shogun  directly,  urging  secretly  a  counter  plan 
—  one  more  to  his  own  liking  and  carrying  with  it  a 
greater  enthusiasm.  He  argued: 

"Would  you  give  this  splendid  army,  the  fleet, 
their  arms  and  equipments,  into  the  hands  of  a  weaker 
force?  Sacrifice  all  these,  the  building  of  centuries, 
at  the  first  cry  of  danger?  Surrender  your  birth- 
right and  defame  the  gods?  They  tell  you  they  are 
your  friends,  but  I  believe  them  to  be  foes.  They 
say  they  are  strong,  yet  I  know  they  are  weak. 
They  cry  the  samurai  are  for  peace,  though  I  grant 
they  are  for  war.  Then  why  not  let  this  talk  of 
peace  be  crowned  with  war?  I  say,  marshal!  the 


Mobilising  the  Samurai  245 

hosts  of  Shishi-Fukinjin,  and  enter  the  gates  of 
Kyoto  with  a  force  that  will  sound  the  warning 
of  Raiden  and  spread  the  havoc  of  Hoorie." 

"Can  you  convince  me  of  the  samurai?"  asked 
Hitotsubashi,  with  growing  enthusiasm. 

"You  have  only  to  make  the  call,"  answered  the 
roused -up  commander. 

"To-morrow  I  will  hear  them  at  the  palace  gate, 
and  if  Tetsutaisho  be  vindicated  then  Hitotsubashi 
shall  turn  his  face  toward  Bishamon  and  hearken  to 
the  voice  of  Ojin.  Let  it  be  as  it  may,  and  go  hence 
now,  that  you  fail  not  then,  for  the  hour  is  to  be  nine; 
then  the  march  shall  begin." 

"I  serve  you,  my  most  honourable  shogun  and 
august  ruler." 

Tetsutaisho  made  short  his  audience,  and  went 
away  with  a  light  heart  and  glowing  purpose.  He  had 
met  with  his  first  victory,  and  now  almost  regretted 
having  ever  listened  to  the  counsels  of  Daikomitsu  or 
having  pledged  himself  to  any  other  or  further  under- 
standing than  the  valiant  defence  of  his  shogun.  All 
this  happened  on  a  clear,  bright  morning  while  the 
air  was  crisp  and  frosty.  The  sun  had  barely  risen, 
and  Tetsutaisho 's  drill  served  him  well  in  getting  the 
attention  of  the  shogun  long  before  the  brainy  prime 
minister  had  thought  of  quitting  his  needed  slumbers. 
Leaving  the  shogun  Tetsutaisho  hastened  along  with 
vigorous  step  and  rising  purpose  to  army  head- 
quarters, and  there  gave  the  command  that  was  to 
send  a  thrill  to  the  heart  of  every  loyal  Japanese  — 
whatever  banner,  the  shogun's  or  the  mikado's,  might 
be  the  emblem  of  his  fortunes.  To  his  subordinates 
he  said: 

"You  will  mobilise  and  report  at  the  inner  palace 


246  Shibusawa 

gate  to-morrow  not  later  than  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning." 

No  intimation  was  given  of  what  he  expected  — 
they  knew  their  commander  had  spoken  and  that  if 
any  should  be  delinquent  it  would  be  they  and  not  he. 
Tetsutaisho  gave  himself  no  further  concern,  but  on 
the  following  day  took  his  place  at  the  gate  promptly 
on  time,  as  did  also  Hitotsubashi,  Okotsuba,  and 
strangely  enough,  Daikomitsu. 

Nor  were  the  samurai  late  in  coming,  for  discipline 
had  been  their  life's  teaching  and  they  knew  no  such 
thing  as  failure.  They  lined  up,  the  left  and  right 
divisions  in  double  rank  on  either  side  of  the  roadway, 
their  front  resting  on  the  inner  gate  and  their  rear 
stretching  through  the  outer  gate  afar  into  the  city 
beyond.  The  soft,  light  uniforms  of  the  swordsmen 
wound  round  their  waists  and  fell  on  one  side  well 
down  toward  the  ground.  At  the  other  side  hung 
their  black  sheaths  and  polished  hilts,  while  their 
bared  arms  and  quick  eyes  told  of  their  great  skill  at 
the  business  of  war.  The  spearsmen  with  their 
brown  breasts  and  short  skirts,  resting  lightly  upon 
their  spear  handles,  lined  up  at  the  rear  on  either  side, 
their  spear  points  glistening  away  and  beyond  the 
reach  of  human  eyes.  These  were  men  of  muscle, 
and  their  bared  limbs  bespoke  a  wonderful  endurance. 

All  together,  Tetsutaisho  might  be  proud  and  Hitot- 
subashi enthused  with  the  splendid  army  of  their 
valorous  defenders.  The  sun  peeped  out  from  behind 
a  passing  cloud,  and  its  rays  dazzled  and  reflected 
from  a  hundred  thousand  bright  sides  as  the  long 
lines  broke  and  faced  about  in  double  file  and  their 
commander  stepped  forward  to  greet  them.  Bowing 
low  to  his  shogun  he  arose  and  leaned  forward  from 


Mobilising  the  Samurai  247 

the  battlement.  He  spoke  in  a  clear,  ringing  voice, 
his  words  being  echoed  and  handed  on  from  man  to 
man,  squad  to  squad,  and  host  to  host  to  the  last 
one  in  line: 

"Comrades  and  samurai:  Our  shogun  has  been 
assailed,  and  your  commander's  honour  is  at  stake. 
Do  you  follow  me?" 

The  answer  came  thundering  back: 

"Until  death!" 

There  was  not  a  dissenting  voice,  and  even  Daiko- 
mitsu  marvelled  at  their  unison  of  purpose  and  offered 
not  a  breath  of  protest.  The  shogun  mounted  his 
war  chair,  and  Tetsutaisho  marched  out  at  the  head 
of  the  heart  and  flower  of  feudalistic  Japan.  The  war 
god  had  whispered  sweetly  the  glories  of  victory,  and 
Hitotsubashi  had  listened.  He  drank  of  the  poisoned 
waters,  and  became  drunk  with  desire.  He  had  again 
changed  his  mind,  and  Daikomitsu's  counsel  was  of  no 
avail;  he  must  go,  and  his  friends  suffer  the  conse- 
quences of  his  folly. 

They  marched  out  of  the  city  and  on  toward  the 
enemy,  nothing  of  importance  interrupting  their 
progress  until  they  had  reached  Fushima,  not  far  dis- 
tant from  Kyoto.  Here  the  gates  were  closed  against 
them,  and  Tetsutaisho  met  face  to  face  his  older  rival, 
Shibusawa. 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

BATTLE    OF    FUSHIMA 

OHIBUSAWA,  the  young  daimyo,  was  there  with 
^J  a  goodly  share  of  the  forces  of  Kanazawa  in- 
trenched behind  formidable  walls,  and  the  voice  of  the 
cannon  warned  Tetsutaisho  of  the  former's  determina- 
tion to  stand,  even  at  the  cost  of  defeat. 

When  the  mikado's  envoy  returned  with  Hitot- 
subashi's  promise  all  Kyoto  had  gone  wild.  Every 
preparation  had  been  made  for  his  gala  entrance  into 
the  capital  and  for  his  welcome  at  the  mikado's  pal- 
ace. A  million  yens  had  been  set  aside  to  defray  the 
cost  and  Saigo  sent  into  the  south  to  marshall  a  force 
wherewithal  to  meet  the  shogun's  coming  in  the 
height  of  gorgeous  display.  The  day  had  been  fixed 
upon  for  Hitotsubashi's  friendly  arrival,  and  no 
thought  of  war  entered  their  minds. 

Thus  they  found  themselves  relaxed  and  unpre- 
pared upon  receipt  of  advance  news  that  the  shogun 
hastily  approached  with  a  powerful  army  under  the 
command  of  the  invincible  Tetsutaisho,  and  in  con- 
sequence their  very  existence  seemed  threatened. 
There  was  no  time  now  to  reach  Saigo;  he  had  gone 
far  away  into  the  southland.  The  force  left  in  front 
of  the  gates  at  Kyoto  formed  scarcely  a  bodyguard, 
and  at  last  the  combination  had  been  brought  face  to 
face  with  the  perils  of  active  warfare. 

Yet  there  appeared  an  alternative,  and  it  was 
Takara  who  advanced  its  proposal.  The  council  had 

248 


Battle  of  Fushima  249 

met  in  closed  session,  and  had  now  become  no  less  than 
a  storm  of  indecision.  Shibusawa  chanced  to  be 
absent,  and  Kido,  alone  and  unsupported,  was  un- 
able to  quell  the  tumult  in  a  disorganised  and  frantic 
chamber.  Amidst  this  frenzy  the  doors  opened  and 
the  mikado's  daughter  entered.  A  hush  came  over 
them,  for  never  before  had  a  woman  dared  enter  there. 
It  had  been  the  business  of  men,  and  since  the  days  of 
Jingo  their  council  remained  barred  to  the  presence  of 
women.  They  ceased  quarrelling  and  stared  intently. 
She  hastened  forward,  first  addressing  Kido,  then  the 
assembly : 

"Honourable  chairman,  and  men  of  the  council, 
hold  your  tongues !  There  is  need  of  a  better  work. ' ' 

Not  a  voice  was  raised  against  her ;  she  had  gained 
their  attention.  Kido,  only,  ventured  to  speak,  ask- 
ing her  to  proceed. 

"Would  you  sit  here  inert,  while  the  enemy  beat 
down  your  doors?  Falter  in  the  hour  of  need?  Ig- 
nore the  help  that  is  within  reach? " 

"No,  no,  no!"  came  from  everywhere  around  her. 

"Then  I  implore  you  to  act,"  said  she,  resolutely. 

' '  But  who  is  there  ?  Where  is  our  defence  ? ' '  said  a 
voice  in  front. 

"Shibusawa!" 

A  stillness  came  over  them.  They  had  not  thought 
of  him  —  their  minds  did  not  go  beyond  their  own 
little  sphere.  Possibly  Kido  had  thought  as  deeply, 
but  the  time  had  not  come  for  him  to  speak.  Takara 
had  now  robbed  him  of  the  privilege,  and  every  man 
there  shouted  himself  hoarse  with  applause.  It  was 
thenceforth  Shibusawa  who  could  and  would  save 
them ;  drafting  a  formal  request  Takara  in  the  absence 
of  a  dissenting  voice  was  chosen  the  trusted  messenger. 


250  Shibusawa 

She  lost  no  time  in  reaching  Shibusawa,  nor  he  in 
accepting  the  responsibilities;  and  while  it  may  have 
taken  him  longer  than  Tetsutaisho  to  mobilise  his 
forces  the  distance  was  short  and,  once  on  the  ground, 
his  defences  were  more  quickly  intrenched.  True, 
his  force  at  hand  numbered  less  than  one  to  every  ten 
of  the  antagonists',  but  they  were  trained  to  the  use 
of  a  more  deadly  weapon.  Shibusawa  had  learned 
while  abroad  of  the  utility  of  powder  and  shot,  and 
from  the  day  of  his  accession  had  drilled  his  men  in  the 
use  of  modern  arms.  He  had  thrown  away  the  sword 
and  spear,  substituting  the  rifle  and  bayonet.  Close- 
fitting  breeches  replaced  the  loose  and  cumbersome 
garments  of  the  soldiery,  and  his  men  had  been  re- 
cruited from  the  masses.  They  were  well  fed  and 
enthusiastic,  while  their  steady  nerves  and  acute 
sight  enabled  them  to  fire  rapidly  and  accurately. 
Nor  had  he  equipped  solely  with  infantry,  but  laid 
in  a  supply  of  light  artillery —  the  best  of  modern  make 
—  and  this,  as  he  soon  discovered,  stood  him  well  in 
hand. 

Upon  his  arrival  at  Kyoto,  Shibusawa  learned 
from  news  conveyed  by  runners  that  owing  to  Tetsu- 
taisho's  rapid  approach  he  did  not  have  time  to  move 
his  army  as  far  as  Osaka,  the  intended  place  of  resist- 
ance ;  therefore  he  selected  Fushima,  a  walled  suburb 
of  the  capital  proper,  as  being  the  most  available 
place  to  make  a  stand  and  throw  up  temporary 
defences. 

Here  he  took  possession  of  the  outer  gates,  through 
which  the  enemy  must  pass  on  their  march  along  the 
Tokaido22  toward  the  palace  in  the  city  above.  Seiz- 
ing upon  a  long,  sloping  hillside  that  lay  just  inside  the 
great  gate,  Shibusawa  scattered  his  infantry  through- 


Battle  of  Fushima  251 

out  its  length  from  the  wall  below  to  the  hilltop  at  the 
bend  above ;  placing  them  in  hollow  squares  the  better 
to  pick  and  fell  the  advancing  swordsmen  as  they 
clambered  upon  the  walls,  or  to  fire  upon  the  strag- 
gling spearsmen  who  chanced  to  escape  the  artillery 
and  gain  the  gates.  The  artillery  had  been  intrenched 
also  on  the  hillside,  sweeping  at  a  convenient  range 
either  the  gate  or  the  Tokaido ;  still  a  small  reserve 
was  held  behind  all,  out  of  sight  and  within  easy 
reach. 

All  in  all  Shibusawa  could  have  found  no  more  ad- 
vantageous place  to  pit  a  modern  army  against  a 
large  force  of  samurai.  Both  he  and  his  men  realised 
his  superior  position,  and  it  gave  them  confidence  in 
their  ability  to  cope  with  Tetsutaisho's  overwhelming 
numbers.  They  had  no  time  to  wait,  though  they 
were  fully  prepared  when  the  charge  began. 

The  infantry  stood  hidden  behind  the  great  wall 
which  crossed  the  samurai's  line  of  march,  and  the 
artillery  lay  low  behind  their  own  breastworks. 
Only  Shibusawa  and  his  small  staff  stood  in  the  open 
above  —  they  were  in  no  danger  —  and  with  field- 
glass  and  time-piece  carefully  watched  and  noted  the 
last  proud  march  of  the  heart  and  soul  of  feudal  Japan 
He  could  not  help  admiring  them ;  and  a  feeling  of  sad- 
ness crept  over  him  as  he  measured  their  helpless 
destruction. 

Yet  he  stood  there,  and  on  they  came.  Shibusawa 
gave  the  command,  and  the  roar  and  boom  of  the  can- 
non warned  the  mighty  shogun  to  halt  his  march. 
Again  and  again  the  destructive  thing  belched  its 
angry  fire  in  the  face  of  an  unfaltering  foe :  they  came 
on,  and  Tetsutaisho's  voice  rang  out  on  the  still  cool 
air  of  morning: 


252  Shibusawa 

"Down  with  the  gates;  on  with  the  march! " 

The  blunt  sound  of  the  battering  ram  bespoke  the 
hopeless  force  which  lingered  in  their  hands.  The 
proud  commander,  with  giant  stride  and  thundering 
voice,  ran  down  the  lines,  urging  the  last  onward  rush 
of  a  hitherto  victorious  host.  The  samurai  broke 
file  and  quickly  ranked  in  line  after ;  Tetsutaisho  had 
presaged  the  havoc  awaiting  a  close  formation,  and 
scattering  his  men  sought  to  scale  the  walls  as  well  as 
batter  down  the  gates. 

Within  the  huge  walls  all  was  silence;  after  the 
first  notes  of  warning  had  been  sounded  Shibusawa 
ceased  firing,  and  did  not  again  give  the  order  until 
the  gates  had  been  driven  loose  and  begun  to  fall. 
Then  a  hundred  guns  poured  shot  and  shell  into  the 
face  of  the  onrushing  spearsmen,  and  the  carnage 
wrought  at  that  gate  was  frightful.  The  dead  piled 
high  in  the  roadway,  though  again  and  again  dragged 
from  the  path  of  the  undaunted  oncomers.  Nor  were 
the  swordsmen  less  valiant,  for  everywhere  they 
scaled  the  ramparts  and  rushed  upon  the  infantry. 
Thus  before  long,  Shibusawa  had  called  out  his  last 
reserve,  and  more  feebly  repulsed  the  terrible  onsets 
that  came  swifter  and  faster.  Column  after  column 
of  his  advance  had  been  wiped  out,  and  one  position 
after  another  yielded  to  the  enraged  enemy  ;  yet 
his  rear  lines  and  the  artillery  kept  up  an  incessant 
fire.  Tetsutaisho 's  men  fell  thick  and  fast  about  the 
gate  and  around  the  walls;  the  defender's  fire  was 
deadly,  and  the  cost  of  each  advance  appalling. 

Thus  the  battle  raged  and  as  yet  neither  had  gained 
a  victory.  The  ranks  on  the  mikado's  side  were 
thinning,  and  Shibusawa  could  not  determine  the 
reserve  strength  of  the  enemy.  The  shogun's  ad- 


Battle  of  Fushima  253 

vance  had  become  maddened  at  the  sight  of  such 
havoc,  while  the  rear  grew  eager  with  expectation. 
Everywhere  they  scaled  the  walls,  and  a  constant 
stream,  though  thinned  and  scarred,  now  poured 
through  the  battered  gates.  Tetsutaisho  shouted  a 
last  advance,  and  the  valley  below  swarmed  with  his 
mighty  reserve.  They  did  not  halt,  nor  did  they 
rush;  but  came  determined  and  invincible. 

Shibusawa  groaned  as  the  tremendous  odds  re- 
vealed themselves.  He  looked  at  his  scattering  few, 
then  concentrated  them,  and  cheered  them  for  a  last 
heroic  stand.  He  had  withstood  a  terrific  advance, 
and  now  would  resist  a  final  onslaught,  even  to  the 
last  man.  They  were  there  to  fight,  and  did  not  know 
the  meaning  of  surrender;  nor  would  they  deign  to 
retreat. 

The  solid  columns  advanced  upon  them,  —  shot  and 
shell  could  not  check  those  swarming  veterans,  —  and 
the  walls  no  longer  offered  much  resistance.  Tet- 
sutaisho rushed  forward;  Shibusawa  grasped  his 
sword  hilt ;  his  men  redoubled  the  fire  and  hurried 
into  line.  The  crack  of  the  rifle,  the  roar  of  the 
cannon,  mingled  to  make  the  scene  a  cruel,  sicken- 
ing slaughter.  Shibusawa's  little  fragment  seemed 
doomed,  and  he  pressed  forward  to  sacrifice  himself 
on  the  altar  of  courage.  Then  a  hand  stretched  forth 
from  out  the  mists  to  save  him ;  a  shell  burst  and  Tet- 
sutaisho fell  wounded  in  the  distance. 

The  fallen  hero,  however,  was  quickly  snatched  up 
and  carried  to  the  rear,  while  the  fight  waxed  hotter, 
and  no  sign  of  disorder  appeared.  Yet  there  was  one 
who  sat  outside  the  gate,  well  shielded  behind  the 
walls;  he  felt  sick  with  the  sights  everywhere  greet- 
ing him,  and  as  the  stricken  commander  was  carried 


254  Shibusawa 

into  his  presence  he  weakened  and  again  changed  his 
mind :  when  the  victory  rested  within  his  grasp  Hitot- 
subashi  gave  the  order  to  retreat,  and  the  remnant 
of  Tetsutaisho's  splendid  army  ran  pell-mell  toward 
the  place  whence  they  came. 

Nor  did  the  hesitating  shogun  stop  his  flight  until 
he  had  again  reached  Tokyo  and  securely  locked  him- 
self within  the  gates  at  the  palace.  Shibusawa  had 
been  too  much  surprised  and  his  force  too  greatly 
weakened  to  cut  off  the  enemy's  retreat  or  follow  up 
his  own  victory ;  a  few  straggling  remnants  were  driven 
beyond  the  gory  walls  and  begrimed  gates,  and  there 
the  successful  commander  halted,  content. 

For  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  their  country  the 
power  of  the  machine  over  the  individual  had  been 
fairly  tried  and  fully  demonstrated.  A  vastly  greater 
force  of  valiant  men  had  been  held  in  check  for  hours 
by  the  quick  and  accurate  firing  of  a  few  painless, 
heartless,  soulless  guns;  though  at  a  frightful  cost  and 
the  most  heroic  trial  they  had  ever  known. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

THE    TRIUMPHAL   ARCH 

AFTER  the  battle  Shibusawa  remained  at  Fush- 
ima  until  the  dead  were  buried,  the  wounded 
cared  for,  and  the  enemy  had  gone  well  out  of  the 
country.  Then,  after  directing  some  further  defences, 
upon  plans  suggested  during  the  engagement,  he 
busied  himself  with  making  preparations  for  the  re- 
turn march;  which,  however,  did  not  begin  until 
Saigo  had  arrived  with  a  relief  force. 

Receiving  the  congratulations  of  the  veteran  com- 
mander, and  bidding  each  other  good-bye,  Shibusawa 
withdrew  and  began  the  march  back  along  the  Tokaido 
toward  the  gates  of  Kyoto.  His  small  army  had  been 
sadly  reduced,  but  they  came  proudly,  as  the  heroes 
of  a  victorious  struggle;  and  when  they  had  arrived 
they  met  with  a  scene  which  they  had  not  expected. 
The  decorations  and  festivities  intended  for  the  sho- 
gun  had  been  put  to  quite  another  use ;  the  crown  of 
welcome  had  been  turned  into  an  arch  of  triumph, 
and  the  victorious  general  passed  under,  the  hero  of 
the  hour.  Nor  was  that  all;  for  upon  reaching  the 
gates  he  there  met  face  to  face  the  mikado  himself. 
Such  a  thing  had  never  been  known,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  the  history  of  the  nation  their  divine  sovereign, 
on  the  yth  day  of  February,  had  appeared  in  public. 

Shibusawa,  mindful  of  time-honoured  custom, 
prostrated  himself  at  the  mikado's  feet,  and  there  re- 
ceived a  blessing  and  his  own  promotion.  Mutsuhito 
spoke  in  a  clear  and  kindly  voice,  saying: 

2SS 


256  Shibusawa 

"I  declare  myself,  Mutsuhito,  the  sole  ruler  of  this 
land;  and  I  appoint  you,  Shibusawa,  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  all  the  forces  in  the  nation's  service ;  and  I 
promise  the  constitution  at  the  fall  of  Tokyo." 

Thereupon  he  handed  to  Shibusawa  a  roll  bearing 
the  inscription  of  a  letter,  embodying  the  foregoing 
and  the  written  signature  of  the  mikado,  the  first  to 
appear  in  public.  After  this  there  were  presented  to 
the  newly  made  commander -in-chief  the  emblems 
of  his  office,  consisting  of  a  brocaded  banner  and  the 
sword  of  justice.  These  he  accepted  at  the  hands  of 
Kido,  whereupon  the  mikado  retired  and  Shibusawa 
proceeded  to  the  discharge  of  his  duties. 

The  public  appearance  of  the  mikado  and  the 
announcement  of  his  patriotic  intentions,  though 
sudden  and  unexpected,  had  not  been  made  without 
careful  deliberation  and  a  full  consciousness  of  its 
ultimate  effect.  Mutsuhito,  fully  advised  of  the  situa- 
tion, had  pledged  his  whole  heart,  hand,  and  life  for 
the  good  of  his  country.  From  the  time  of  his  acces- 
sion to  the  throne  he  had  been  a  keen  observer,  and 
now  that  the  greatest  clash  of  arms  since  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  Chinese  armada,  six  hundred  years  before, 
had  resulted  in  a  complete  victory  for  their  side,  he 
understood  the  patriotic  outburst  of  approval  that 
centred  around  Shibusawa,  the  supporter  of  his 
cause;  and  he  proposed  to  strike,  like  the  man  that  he 
was,  where  he  knew  the  blow  would  tell  most  for  what 
he,  too,  believed  to  be  right. 

Shibusawa  had  not  anticipated  such  applause  nor 
had  he  expected  so  great  a  recognition;  he  had  gone 
forth  at  the  first  opportunity  to  do  only  what  he  be- 
lieved to  be  an  honour  and  a  privilege.  He  had  acted 
as  his  heart  told  him  to  act,  and  the  results  seemed 


The  Triumphal  Arch  257 

but  the  incidents  of  fortune.  He  accepted  the  respon- 
sibility with  dignity  and  no  further  ambition  than  to 
serve  his  country  and  honour  the  name  his  fathers 
gave. 

Nor  was  he  unmindful  of  the  part  Takara  had 
played  in  moulding  his  purpose  and  building  his  for- 
tune, even  to  winning  the  crown  of  success.  Yet  he 
could  not  return  her  that  love  which  completes  life 
and  makes  it  worth  the  living ;  he  had  given  it  to  an- 
other and  it  was  not  his  to  recall.  He  set  himself  to 
work  at  a  lighter  task,  and  presently  the  force  of  his 
great  ability  made  itself  felt  in  the  complete  reorgani- 
sation and  equipment  of  the  grandest  army  that  had 
ever  marched  or  fought  in  the  flowery  kingdom  of 
Japan. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

SAVING    THE    ARMADA 

THE  news  of  the  victory  had  spread  rapidly,  and 
by  the  time  Shibusawa  reached  Kyoto  the  whole 
south  was  in  a  state  of  unrestrained  enthusiasm. 
From  the  first  days  of  the  shogunate,  the  south  had 
never  at  any  time  yielded  complete  submission.  They 
had  always  believed  in  the  divine  right  of  the  mikado, 
and  still  cherished  the  hope  of  his  complete  restora- 
tion. They  had  fought  many  battles  before,  but 
somehow  this  one  sounded  a  deeper  note.  A  new 
leader  had  risen,  and  they  rallied  to  his  support  with 
a  better  heart  and  bolder  purpose. 

While  the  force  of  the  great  success  had  been  thus 
encouraging  in  the  south  it  worked  a  radically  different 
effect  in  the  north.  The  news  had  travelled  faster 
than  the  terrified  shogun,  and  long  before  he  reached 
Tokyo  they  had  heard  of  Tetsutaisho's  misfortune  and 
of  the  crushing  defeat  Hitotsubashi  had  suffered  to 
befall  the  brave  samurai. 

On  the  return  march  he  was  openly  jeered,  and  no- 
where did  the  retreat  meet  with  even  respectful  con- 
sideration. Everywhere  throughout  the  north  the 
people  bowed  down  with  sorrow;  but  in  their  hearts 
there  arose  a  feeling  of  contempt  for  the  halting, 
fleeing  shogun. 

"Had  Tetsutaisho  but  escaped  disablement!"  be- 
came the  suppressed  cry  on  every  hand. 

Hitotsubashi  re-entered  his  palace  a  broken- 
258 


Saving  the  Armada  259 

hearted  man,  and  there  shut  himself  in,  a  prisoner  and 
a  failure.  It  wanted  only  the  bidding  of  the  first 
comer  to  startle  and  frighten  him  into  a  weak  and 
puerile  submission:  he  waited  and  the  time  quickly 
came. 

In  the  readjustment  of  the  army,  Shibusawa  not 
only  took  advantage  of  the  strong  public  sentiment 
greatly  to  augment  and  newly  equip  the  force  at 
hand,  but  introduced  an  entirely  new  system  of 
arrangement  and  discipline.  He  made  of  the  army 
three  great  divisions:  the  Central  or  Home  division, 
over  which  he  himself  retained  the  immediate  com- 
mand; the  Right  or  South  division,  the  command  of 
which  he  intrusted,  to  Saigo ;  the  Left  or  North  divi- 
sion, which,  strange  to  say,  Tetsutaisho,  his  most 
bitter  enemy,  was  named  to  command. 

Shibusawa  alone  was  responsible  for  the  arrange- 
ment, which,  not  at  first  entirely  understood,  soon 
became  generally  known  and  proved  most  effective 
in  its  workings.  Without  in  any  manner  weakening 
his  effective  forces  he  had  placed  his  strongest  enemy 
in  the  light  of  a  rebel  —  than  which  there  is  none 
more  odious  in  the  eyes  of  his  countrymen  —  and 
rather  than  bear  the  stigma  of  being  so  called  many 
withdrew  their  support  from  the  shogunate  or  came 
over  entirely  to  the  side  of  the  mikadate. 

While  these  sweeping  changes  were  in  progress, 
an  expedition  was  also  being  planned  that  should 
carry  the  seat  of  warfare  far  to  the  northward,  and 
even  to  the  very  door  of  the  shogun's  palace  itself. 
Such  a  thing  had  never  before  been  thought  possible, 
and  now,  when  the  most  unheard  of  changes  were 
the  regular  order,  it  was  looked  upon  with  wonder. 
Still  the  people,  though  amazed,  had  confidence  in 


260  Shibusawa 

Shibusawa,  who  carried  on  his  work  with  a  full  under- 
standing of  its  probable  effect  at  home,  as  well  as  its 
possibilities  in  the  north.  Nor  was  he  unapprecia- 
tive  of  the  advisability  of  following  up  his  first  vic- 
tory while  its  consequences  were  yet  fresh  in  the 
minds  of  all.  Hastening  his  movements  as  much  as 
seemed  consistent  with  good  judgment,  he  began 
mobilising  a  vast  army  near  the  seashore  at  Owara, 
and  there  rendezvoused  all  the  ships  at  his  disposal 
or  that  he  could  buy  or  build  in  the  meantime. 

So  rapidly  did  Shibusawa  move  that  by  the  middle 
of  April  he  held  in  readiness  a  fleet  of  two  thousand 
craft  of  all  sorts  and  an  army  fully  one-half  the  size 
of  that  which  Tetsutaisho  had  three  months  before 
marched  against  them.  Thereupon  he  notified  Tokyo 
that  the  mikado  had  proclaimed  the  shogun  a  rebel, 
demanding  his  immediate  surrender;  also  advised 
Tetsutaisho  that  if  he  longer  refused  to  submit  to 
orders  from  Kyoto  he  did  so  at  his  peril. 

The  young  commander  did  not  wait  for  an  answer, 
but  set  the  day  upon  which  to  sail.  When  the  time 
came  he  bid  all  on  land  a  hearty  good-bye,  and  under 
the  promise  of  warm  skies  and  a  calm  sea  spread 
canvas;  and  the  southern  armada  sailed  away,  to- 
ward its  heroic  mission  and  enlarged  purpose. 

Shibusawa's  ship  had  been  the  last  to  leave  its 
moorings,  and  as  it  slowly  backed  off  a  shout  went  up 
from  the  throngs  who  crowded  the  shore,  bringing  the 
young  hero  on  deck  where  he  bade  them  all  farewell. 
Blushing  maidens  waved  their  handkerchiefs,  while 
young  men  shouted  themselves  hoarse.  Old  men 
bowed,  and  white-haired  women  prophesied.  Some 
moaned  a  murmuring  fear,  for  they  had  heard  the 
voice  of  Kammon  and  seen  visions  of  the  mighty 


Saving  the  Armada  261 

dragon  of  the  sea.  Nor  were  those  on  board  the 
ships  afterwards  less  apprehensive,  for  the  warm  skies 
of  the  early  morning  had  changed  to  sultry,  murky 
heat.  At  midday  the  sun  barely  showed  its  great, 
fiery  face,  and  when  it  had  sunk  toward  the  western 
horizon  the  winds  ceased  and  the  spangled  fleet  lay 
still  on  the  glassy  waters  or  lolled  on  the  lazy,  deep 
rolling  seas. 

Thus  they  drifted  and  wandered  far  out  on  the  blue 
expanse,  like  tiny  specks  on  the  line  betwixt  heaven 
and  earth,  while  their  thoughts  roamed  tauntingly 
through  weird  vagaries  of  legionary  mysticism. 
Then  suddenly  the  heavens  darkened,  the  winds 
blew,  and  the  seas  angered. 

Even  Shibusawa  became  not  without  a  reverence 
for  the  ancestral  gods.  The  cracking  of  the  timbers, 
the  cries  of  the  drowning,  the  fear  of  destruction, 
these  had  certainly  been  enough  to  inspire  feelings  of 
respect  if  not  reverence  for  that  which  had  once  been 
all  and  all  to  him.  He  came  upon  deck  and  there 
witnessed  the  power  of  religion  over  men.  His  oldest 
veterans,  tried  and  found  true  on  many  a  battle-field, 
were  there  lying  prostrate  before  their  chosen  gods. 
He  too  may  have  reverenced  Bishamon,  for  he  knelt 
and  remained  silent  in  the  momentary  calm. 

And  as  he  there  bowed  a  woman  arose  from  the 
hatchway  before  him.  He  started,  and  for  the  nonce 
lost  his  reason,  appealing  to  Kwannon  to  save  them. 
His  whole  soul  had  returned  at  the  call  of  the  source 
whence  it  came;  the  body  gave  what  the  mind  failed. 
He  felt  her  presence,  and  all  the  reason  of  all  the  en- 
lightened ages  could  not  have  shown  him  that  Takara 
had  not  invoked  their  calamity ;  for  had  not  the  sages 
of  all  time  said  that  the  presence  of  a  woman  on  board 


262  Shibusawa 

a  man-of-war  would  bring  upon  it  the  wrath  of  Oni? 
And  was  it  not  said  there  could  be  no  escaping  his 
fury?  These  early  accounted  truths  overwhelmed 
Shibusawa,  and  for  the  moment  he  crouched  in 
startled  submission.  The  hobgoblins  of  his  youth  had 
at  last  become  a  stern  reality,  for  there  stood  before 
him  his  own  wife  in  the  flesh  and  form.  He  would 
have  risen  and  appealed  to  her,  but  she  checked  him; 
and  coming  near,  beckoned  him  be  silent,  then  said: 

"You  would  believe  me  a  witch,  some  demon  who 
has  risen  from  the  deep  to  do  you  harm.  It  is  not 
true;  I  came  to  save  you." 

Then  she  drew  from  her  sleeve  a  blood-stained 
handkerchief,  which  she  bade  him  take  from  her  hand. 
Impulse  moved  him  to  do  so,  and  as  he  touched  the 
crumpled  cloth  his  own  consciousness  discerned  the 
awful  message  therein  revealed.  He  held  it  and 
listened,  half  bewildered,  half  determined.  She  con- 
tinued, saying: 

"Take  it,  and  promise  me  that  you  will  avenge  the 
wrong,  that  you  will  sacrifice  your  own  for  your 
father's  blood?" 

He  started,  then  hesitated;  and  looking  all  around, 
asked : 

"The  storm?" 

She   answered: 

"Do  you  promise?" 

He  said: 

"I  do." 

Then  the  storm  broke  afresh  upon  them;  her  face 
brightened,  and  she  leaped  over  the  side  of  the  ship 
and  into  the  angry  sea;  and  as  she  sank  beneath  the 
foam-tossed  waves  she  smiled  sweetly,  and  he  felt 
and  knew  her  message  to  be  a  token  of  peace. 


Saving  the  Armada  263 

As  she  disappeared  from  sight  Shibusawa  rushed  to 
the  ship's  rail,  and  calling  loudly  to  those  about  him 
threw  off  his  garment  and  would  have  leaped  after 
her  had  they  not  seized  hold  and  implored  him  not  to 
let  them  die  while  he  saved  only  a  woman.  He  threw 
them  from  him  and  turned  to  make  the  leap ;  but  in- 
stead started  back  and  stared  in  front,  for  there  arose 
before  him  out  of  the  waters  a  vision  of  beauty,  a 
goddess  of  truth. 

Her  beautiful  form  seemed  wound  round  with  a 
mist,  and  her  upturned  face  looked  toward  the 
heavens.  The  storm  ceased  and  the  waters  calmed. 
The  dark  clouds  parted  and  a  sunburst  shone  through, 
enshrouding  her;  she  soared  upward,  disappearing 
within  the  sun's  circle ;  the  clouds  closed  after  her,  and 
she  was  seen  no  more;  Shibusawa  alone  knew  the 
haven  of  her  rest. 

Thence  they  sailed  away  toward  Hakone,  the  in- 
tended port  of  landing.  The  typhoon  which  had 
passed  them  did  no  great  damage  to  the  fleet  —  only 
destroying  some  of  the  smaller  craft  and  a  few  thou- 
sand men  —  and  the  repairs  were  soon  made,  while 
they  progressed  without  further  interruption. 

After  the  weather  had  settled  and  they  were  again 
under  full  sail  Shibusawa  retired  to  his  cabin,  and 
there  pondered  deeply  the  strange  scene  he  had  wit- 
nessed. He  knew  that  he  had  always  acted  in  accord- 
ance with  the  dictates  of  his  own  conscience,  and  felt 
that  he  could  not  hold  himself  accountable  for  the  sad 
misfortunes  of  fate.  Yet  he  remained  conscious  of 
Takara's  new  love,  and,  after  having  again  brushed 
aside  all  trace  of  returning  mysticism,  felt  a  deep 
sorrow  overspreading  his  life. 

She,  too,  had  passed  through  this  same  conscious- 


264  Shibusawa 

ness,  and  had  grown  to  love  Shibusawa  better  than  he 
knew ;  and  when  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  set  sail 
a  great  fear  had  taken  hold  of  her,  and  she  could  not 
bear  to  see  him  go  beyond  her  reach.  She  had 
reasoned  well  that  his  duty  called  him  hence  and  that 
at  his  post  there  was  no  place  for  a  woman.  Yet  she 
longed  to  be  near  him,  to  share  his  sorrows  and  com- 
fort his  distress. 

All  this  Takara  felt  in  her  heart,  though  she  knew 
that  he  could  not  return  her  love ;  that  another  held  in 
secret  the  trust  which  God  had  given,  and  that  she 
herself  at  best  must  be  but  a  slave.  As  such,  she 
stole  on  board  his  ship  and  hid  herself  away.  The 
storm  came  upon  them,  and  she  too  may  have  fallen 
at  the  shrine  of  Mystery,  listened  to  the  sweet  voice  of 
Tradition.  And  she  reasoned  that  if  the  one  be  true, 
the  other  must  suffice;  that  if  her  presence  had  dis- 
turbed the  gods,  her  sacrifice  must  appease  their 
wrath.  Hence  she  sought  her  god,  and  intrusted  to 
him  the  keeping  of  her  sworn  duty.  He  accepted  the 
obligation,  and  she  answered  to  the  will  of  her  Maker. 
It  is  asked: 

"Is  the  beautiful  goddess  of  truth  a  certain  star? 
Is  Takara  in  heaven?" 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THE    BIVOUAC 

THE  armada  arrived  at  Hakone  early  in  the 
morning,  and  the  myriad  sails  stretched  for 
miles  along  the  low,  sand-skirted  beach,  while  the  eager 
men  plunged  and  waded  to  the  shore.  The  waters 
lay  calm  —  scarcely  a  ripple  stirring  their  glassy  sur- 
face —  and  long  before  midnight  the  soldiers  had 
bivouacked  upon  the  sloping  banks  far  up  toward  the 
surrounding  hills.  They  slumbered,  and  only  the 
slow  tramp  of  the  sentinel  told  of  the  visitation  there 
encamped. 

Shibusawa  alone  lingered;  he  could  not  sleep.  A 
new  responsibility  had  taken  hold  of  him,  and  his 
mind  wandered  into  the  mystic  land  of  infinitude.  At 
his  back  lay  the  majestic  Fujiyama,  whose  silent  cone 
and  sloping  sides  seemed  encircled  with  a  thousand 
magic  tales,  and  whose  lofty  peak  had  inspired  with 
awe  the  millions  born  of  departed  ages ;  while  before 
him  spread  the  plains  of  Sagami,  studded  with  its 
historic  legend,  sacred  temples,  mammoth  statues, 
palaces  of  the  kings,  and  caves  of  the  gods. 

The  restless  man  thought  of  all  these,  and  of  how 
he  had  rambled  amidst  its  historic  fields;  climbed  up 
and  into  the  very  heart  and  head  of  the  great  Buddha, 
with  its  eyes  of  gold  and  tons  of  bronze,  measuring 
fifty  feet  in  height  and  seventeen  across  from  ear  to 
ear;  stolen  on  the  rock-hewn  steps  around  the  jagged 
cliffs  at  Enoshima,  where  juts  the  rock  and  beats  the 

265 


266  Shibusawa 

surf,  to  the  cave,  in  which  dwells  the  lovely  goddess 
Benten;  pilgrimaged  to  the  lofty  golden-lacquered 
statue  of  Kwannon,  the  beautiful  image,  over  sixty 
feet  in  height,  of  the  time-honoured  goddess  of  mercy, 
recalling  that  he,  too,  had  stood  at  her  feet,  in  the 
darkened  chamber,  behind  the  shrine,  bowing  with 
reverence,  while  the  priests  in  their  sombre  gowns 
repeated  holy  incantations :  that  he  had  admired  the 
beautiful  handiwork  of  man  as  they  raised  and  lowered 
the  sliding  candles  from  foot  to  head  on  either  side, 
and  that  he  had  gone  away  again  feeling  better  in 
heart  and  stronger  of  purpose  —  more  fitted  to  do  his 
part  in  the  mighty  empire  of  life.  These  things 
crowded  upon  his  memory,  and  a  whole  world  of 
beauty  opened  up  as  of  the  past  and  he  marvelled  at 
its  vastness  and  shuddered  at  the  thought  of  its 
crumbling  before  the  march  of  progress.  He  asked 
himself  if  he  were  in  the  right  in  hastening  its  down- 
fall; if  all  those  who  had  gone  before,  those  millions 
of  tireless,  worshipping  souls,  had  lived  in  vain. 
Then  a  broader  conception  dawned,  and  he  answered: 

"Yes." 

He  had  looked  beyond  all  this  to  the  God  who  knows 
no  image,  who  counts  within  His  fold  all  the  suns  and 
moons  and  stars  and  lands  within  a  world  of  worlds. 
He  then  slept,  and  upon  arising  despatched  a  message 
to  Kyoto  with  the  news  of  Takara's  death,  and  began 
the  march  toward  Tokyo,  much  refreshed  and  more 
confident  of  his  mission.  He  had  overcome  the  last 
temptation  to  cling  to  the  old,  and  pressed  forward 
with  a  better  courage  and  lighter  heart  toward  the 
new.  He  too  had  loved  and  lost,  though  his  God  bade 
him  have  faith:  Takara's  did  not. 


CHAPTER   XL 

SIEGE    OF    TOKYO 

A  SLOW  march  of  nearly  three  weeks  brought 
Shibusawa  and  his  great  army  to  the  outskirts 
of  the  shogun's  capital  city,  Tokyo;  little  resistance 
having  been  offered  on  the  way,  and  no  considerable 
inconvenience  suffered. 

The  assaulting  general  had  taken  his  time,  partly 
because  of  the  difficulty  experienced  in  moving  artil- 
lery without  a  sufficient  supply  of  horses  or  cattle, 
but  chiefly  in  view  of  expected  hostilities  and  the  un- 
certainty of  the  country  through  which  they  passed. 
However,  he  was  agreeably  disappointed  in  finding 
his  passage  practically  uninterrupted,  and  the  inhab- 
itants not  extremely  unfriendly.  The  news  had  gone 
far  in  advance  of  his  coming,  and  the  very  audacity 
of  his  movements  had  won  for  him  admiration  if  not 
respect. 

Upon  arriving  at  his  destination,  Shibusawa  halted 
well  outside  the  city,  seized  upon  the  most  advantage- 
ous points  and  fortified  them  with  artillery  and  troops, 
preparatory  to  the  great  siege  which  he  had  planned. 

In  his  investment  of  the  place  he  took  particular 
pains  to  make  his  stand  at  some  considerable  distance 
from  the  densely  built  sections.  He  had  realised  the 
danger  of  setting  fire  to  the  thatched  roofs  and  wooden 
structures,  should  any  heavy  engagement  take  place 
near  them,  and  however  anxious  he  may  have  been  to 
crush  the  shogunate  he  did  not  wish  to  do  so  at  the 

267 


268  Shibusawa 

cost  of  a  conflagration  or  the  needless  destruction  of 
life  or  property.  He  went  at  the  business  of  conquer- 
ing the  foe  with  a  just  and  full  appreciation  of  the 
rights  and  conveniences  of  the  people;  and,  upon  ex- 
tending his  lines  around  the  city,  purposely  left  a 
weak  place  to  the  northward,  giving  the  enemy  a 
chance  to  break  through,  if  he  so  desired,  thus  avoid- 
ing the  necessity  of  fighting  the  final  engagement  at  or 
near  the  great  capital,  with  its  large  population,  its 
splendid  buildings,  and  vast  stores  of  wealth. 

In  this  Shibusawa  reasoned  well  and,  under  existing 
conditions,  lost  nothing  in  position  or  opportunity. 
While  the  loophole  came  to  nothing  so  far  as  the  shogun 
himself  was  concerned,  it  did  afterwards  accom- 
plish good  results  by  letting  at  least  a  portion  of  the 
samurai  out,  thus  avoiding  a  last  stand  or  any  large 
engagement  within  the  city.  Nor  would  it  have  been 
any  the  less  operative  in  the  case  of  Hitotsubashi,  had 
he  not  weakened  at  the  first  appearance  of  danger 
and  run  like  the  weakling  he  had  shown  himself  to  be. 
The  scared  shogun  had  long  since  withdrawn  from 
anything  like  a  hostile  attitude,  hiding  himself  within 
the  secret  confines  of  a  bulwark  builded  by  other 
hands  than  his. 

In  fact,  upon  the  receipt  of  Shibusawa's  letter,  de- 
spatched from  Owara,  advising  him  of  the  mikado's 
edict  demanding  his  resignation,  Hitotsubashi  fainted 
away  and  was  revived  only  by  means  of  much  sorcery 
and  many  assurances.  Tetsutaisho  had  by  this  time 
fully  recovered  —  having  suffered  more  from  the 
concussion  than  from  the  wound  —  and  become  anx- 
ious to  retrieve  his  fallen  prowess.  Before  his  dis- 
ablement at  Fushima  he  had  presaged  the  inevitable 
outcome  of  the  battle,  had  he  been  spared  to  lead  on 


Siege   of  Tokyo  269 

to  victory  his  overwhelming  numbers,  and  now 
keenly  felt  the  disgrace  rightly  attributed  to  his  ido- 
lised shogun,  who  had  so  promptly  and  properly  taken 
up  the  ill-fated  command.  Therefore,  urging  Hitot- 
subashi  to  stand  firm,  he  advised  that  they  all  fall  to- 
gether like  men,  if  fall  they  must. 

"True,  your  most  august  highness,  I  advised  war 
from  the  beginning,"  said  he.  "I  do  no  less  now. 
And  when  the  last  has  deserted,  Tetsutaisho  will  stand 
face  to  face  with  the  enemy.  You  have  my  judgment ; 
I  have  the  army.  Do  as  you  will,  but  I  shall  defend 
these  walls,  which  enclose  the  last  that  is  dear  to  a 
samurai.  Loyalty  is  my  due,  and  honour  my  right. 
May  the  gods  deal  lightly  with  you;  with  me  there 
is  a  more  serious  issue:  the  shogunate  must  live!" 

Though  the  commander-in-chief  of  the  shogun 's 
forces  held  positive  in  his  stand,  and  was  now  strongly 
supported  by  both  Daikomitsu  and  Okotsuba,  and 
several  other  of  the  daimyos,  he  could  no  longer 
bolster  up  and  encourage  the  waning  Hitotsubashi. 
On  the  contrary  the  latter  grew  more  cowardly  and 
anxious,  and  long  before  Shibusawa  had  arrived,  he, 
together  with  some  twenty  daimyos  and  a  large 
number  of  retainers  and  hangers-on,  withdrew  from 
the  walled  palace,  retiring  to  the  castle  of  Mito  in 
everlasting  disgrace.  Their  withdrawal  necessarily 
weakened  the  triumvirate,  but  it  did  still  more:  it 
again  divided  them  in  their  policy,  and  scattered  them 
in  their  last  defence. 

Daikomitsu  had  in  the  first  place  advised  Hitotsu- 
bashi to  go  to  Kyoto  in  compliance  with  the  mikado's 
request,  but  he  had  never  considered  the  surrender- 
ing of  the  shogunate  or  the  abandonment  of  its  cause ; 
and  when  the  shogun  had  so  flagrantly  disregarded  his 


270  Shibusawa 

advice  and  marched  against  Kyoto,  he  realised  more 
than  ever  the  necessity  of  ignoring  him,  and  of  es- 
tablishing a  more  harmonious  relation  among  the 
triumvirate.  This  he  undertook  to  do,  and  had  the 
shogun  remained  quietly  in  the  palace  at  Tokyo  they 
might  yet  have  succeeded  in  saving  their  idolised 
institution. 

Tetsutaisho  not  only  was  thus  sorely  tried  with 
public  duties  and  loss  of  prestige,  but  had  been  over- 
whelmed with  sorrow  at  home.  He  had  there  met 
with  new  and  bitter  experiences  and,  in  place  of  that 
consolation  and  comfort  which  a  man  in  any  position 
can  ill  afford  to  forego,  was  burdened  with  a  deep  and 
abiding  grief. 

Not  until  the  night  before  the  shogun's  departure 
had  Nehachibana  relented ;  then  she  came  to  her  hus- 
band and  in  a  confused  manner  confessed  that  Kin- 
san  had  not  taken  the  life  of  Sodachinojoi.  She  told 
him  of  how  the  child  of  itself  had  slipped  into  the 
crevice;  and  without  making  any  excuse  for  her  own 
falsehood  or  expressing  sympathy  for  the  wronged  one, 
she  left  him  there,  and  the  next  day  went  out  of  the 
city,  following  the  train  of  the  shogun  into  seclusion. 

Nehachibana  had  become  a  convert  to  the  new 
religion,  and  believing  herself  a  martyr  now  sought  to 
relieve  her  conscience  by  a  confession  of  the  facts; 
thus  preparing  herself  to  ask  His  forgiveness  and 
receive  salvation.  Tetsutaisho 's  wife  had  been  an 
easy  convert  and  ready  worker  among  her  kind ;  it  had 
been  easy  for  her  to  become  a  Christian,  offering  a 
ready  road  to  happiness;  her  own  religion  was  not  so 
easily  adjusted  or  so  well  suited  to  like  achievement. 
And  while  the  missionary,  Mrs.  Lindley,  escaped 
along  with  the  shogun's  retinue,  and  took  her  con- 


Siege  of  Tokyo  271 

vert  with  her,  she  had  done  a  great  good  in  the  years 
she  had  been  at  Tokyo ;  for  not  only  had  she  saved 
Nehachibana's  soul,  but  her  little  daughter  had  given 
much  succour  and  some  comfort  to  poor  Kinsan  while 
suffering  the  cruel  revenge  of  her  fiendish  tormentor. 

Tetsutaisho's  heart  sickened  upon  hearing  the 
confession ;  and  hastening  to  rectify  the  awful  mistake, 
he  found  Kinsan  suffering  all  but  the  last  pangs  of 
starvation;  for  the  attention  even  of  the  missionary's 
little  daughter  had  in  the  excitement  of  the  hour 
failed  her.  The  strong  man  fell  upon  his  knees  at  her 
side,  and  with  his  own  hands  broke  the  lock  which 
held  the  vile  instrument  at  her  neck.  Gathering  the 
frail  form  in  his  arms  he  carried  her  to  her  former 
lodge,  and  there  summoned  the  best  aid  and  nourish- 
ment at  his  command.  Nor  was  he  satisfied  with 
this  alone,  but  would  have  condemned  Nehachibana 
even  to  a  severer  punishment  had  not  Kinsan  pleaded 
for  her  deliverance,  saying  feebly: 

" She  is  but  a  woman;  and  no  more  accountable  for 
her  way  than  I  am  for  my  misfortune.  It  is  not  the 
deed,  but  the  necessity  that  makes  the  wrong.  In 
such  an  one  there  can  be  no  crime  —  please  do  not 
inflict  a  punishment." 

Tetsutaisho  yielded  to  Kinsan's  persuasion,  for  he 
now  understood  her,  and  appreciated  the  force  of  her 
intent,  though  not  her  logic.  He  remained  a  child  of 
feudalism,  and  outside  its  tenets  was  a  suckling,  not 
knowing  that  there  opened  another  way.  To  him 
woman  seemed  but  an  instrument,  the  better  used  to 
gratify  man's  desire;  and  when  he  allowed  Nehachi- 
bana to  escape  it  had  been  only  to  encourage  an  eager, 
selfish  hope. 

Kinsan  recovered  rapidly ;  thus  Tetsutaisho  became 


272  Shibusawa 

relieved,  and  devoted  himself  more  than  ever  to  the 
strengthening  of  his  defences  and  the  preparations  for 
a  final  combat.  In  his  mind  there  was  only  one  course 
to  pursue,  and  that  the  heroic.  It  mattered  not  that 
a  city  be  destroyed,  that  countless  lives  be  sacrificed. 
He  was  as  bold  and  intrepid  as  he  was  loyal  and 
courageous;  knowing  neither  the  power  of  deception, 
nor  the  force  of  heartless  mechanism.  He  marshalled 
not  their  cowardly  virtues,  but  called  to  hand  an 
humbler  host,  the  glorious  heroics  of  a  dying  age. 
He  proposed  to  make  a  last  triumphant  stand, 
and  dazzle  mankind  with  the  splendour  of  his 
achievement;  but  in  this,  too,  he  was  doomed  to 
disappointment. 

Both  Daikomitsu  and  Okotsuba  reasoned  patiently 
against  the  dangers  of  his  policy.  They  knew  too 
well  the  futility  of  matching  valour  against  cunning, 
the  human  against  the  inhuman.  They  argued  well 
that  they  had  best  make  good  their  escape,  holding 
the  enemy  in  check  and  preserving  their  own  forces 
until,  in  time,  they  could  substitute  a  more  effective 
warfare.  But  Tetsutaisho  remained  resolute  and 
when  the  final  day  came,  faced  a  hopeless  attempt, 
realising  only  at  the  last  moment  the  inevitable  con- 
sequence of  his  folly. 

It  was  a  dark,  gloomy,  and  hopeless  day.  All  the 
morning  the  rain  had  poured,  and  the  thatched  roofs 
and  wooden  structures  were  soaked  with  water.  The 
time  was  July  —  the  fourth  day  —  and  after  the  long 
rain  a  rising  vapour  enveloped  the  city  with  a  low, 
hazy  fog.  The  clouds  overhead  ran  low,  and  Shi- 
busawa ordered  the  advance.  Twice  before  he  had 
planned  to  move  upon  them,  but  each  time  re- 
frained from  doing  so  at  the  earnest  appeal  of  Daiko- 


Siege  of  Tokyo  273 

mitsu,  who  had  sent  messengers  protesting  against 
the  destruction  of  the  city.  This  time  there  must  be 
no  halting ;  the  heavens  had  cleared  the  way. 

Column  after  column  of  the  mikado's  splendid 
army,  with  fixed  bayonet  and  steady  march,  advanced 
from  the  south  upon  the  walled  enclosure  at  the 
palace  grounds.  Hardly  had  they  sounded  the  ap- 
proach, the  moats  were  destroyed  and  the  big  cannon 
hurled  their  easy  missiles  against  the  yielding  gates 
and  weakening  walls.  The  waters  emptied,  and  the 
stones  loosened  and  fell ;  they  pressed  on,  some  level- 
ling, others  scaling,  until  the  last  obstruction  had 
fallen  —  thus'  thrice  proving  the  certainty  of  the  new 
and  the  futility  of  the  old,  as  time  and  progress  ever 
repeat. 

As  the  last  wall  fell  Shibusawa  brandished  high  his 
sword  and  commanded  the  charge.  Quickly  they  ran, 
and  the  hillside  swarmed  with  oncoming  hordes  of 
sturdy,  determined  men.  Reaching  the  summit  the 
broad  expanse  of  the  shogun's  gardens  spread  out 
before  them,  and  they  ranked  in  double  line,  listen- 
ing, with  breathless  expectation.  And  as  they  waited 
the  clouds  parted,  revealing  a  scattering  enemy  in  the 
background;  only  a  small  formation  stood  aligned  in 
front  of  the  palace  buildings.  Like  a  flash  came  the 
order : 

"Fire!" 

A  blaze,  and  the  crack  of  musketry  dulled  against 
the  heavy  atmosphere.  The  line  fell  to  their  knees 
and  began  reloading.  The  rear  had  risen,  and  stood 
ready  to  repeat.  The  smoke  rose,  and  a  woman  was 
seen  running  toward  them.  She  had  gained  the 
centre  of  the  field,  yet  without  heed  of  her  presence 
or  time  to  observe  an  order  a  second  volley  poured  its 


274  Shibusawa 

deadly  shot  into  the  foreground.  Shibusawa  had  seen 
her  and  cried: 

"Cease  your  firing!" 

But  the  warning  had  come  too  late,  and  turning  to 
his  troops  he  said: 

"Would  you  so  little  respect  the  helpless,  and  that  a 
woman?  I  thought  better  of  my  command.  Hold 
you  here  with  compassion,  and  let  me  advance." 

Nor  had  he  checked  their  progress  unknowingly; 
for  before  the  smoke  again  shut  out  the  view  he  had 
levelled  his  glasses  at  the  approaching  form,  and  to 
his  horror  discovered  that  it  was  Kinsan  who  with  the 
white  cloth  in  hand  had  reeled  and  fallen  before  the 
wicked  report  had  time  to  die  away. 

Shibusawa  at  the  head  of  his  staff  sprang  forward, 
and  before  the  smoke  had  again  fairly  cleared  away 
came  well-nigh  upon  the  fallen  woman  who  lay  in  a 
swoon,  though  breathing  lightly  and  not  mortally 
wounded.  But  not  he  alone  had  gone  to  her  rescue, 
for  Tetsutaisho  also  had  observed  her  danger,  and 
from  the  opposite  side  ran  to  save  her.  At  the  begin- 
ning of  the  engagement  Kinsan  and  others  had  been 
carefully  sheltered  at  the  rear,  from  which  situation 
she  overheard  a  heated  discussion  between  Tetsutaisho 
and  Daikomitsu,  resulting  in  the  latter's  withdrawal 
at  the  last  moment  of  the  major  portion  of  the  sam- 
urai, leaving  scarcely  more  than  Tetsutaisho's  body- 
guard with  which  to  defend  himself  and  the  palace. 
Fearing  his  fate,  Kinsan  had  without  bidding  or  warn- 
ing evaded  them  all,  seeking  to  stay  her  master's 
destruction  by  throwing  herself  in  front.  She  knew 
that  Tetsutaisho,  reduced  to  a  handful  of  patriots, 
could  not  withstand  the  terrible  onslaught  of  a  mighty 
army,  and  offered  to  sacrifice  herself  in  the  hope  of 


Siege  of  Tokyo  275 

saving  him  in  some  way  from  ruthless  destruction,  if 
not  ignominious  defeat.  Her  heart  had  gone  out  to 
him  and  to  the  few  others  who  had  remained  stead- 
fast to  principle,  and  her  life  seemed  to  her  of  slight 
importance  as  compared  with  theirs,  or  in  prolonging, 
even  momentarily,  the  institution  which  had  given 
them  place. 

Tetsutaisho,  too,  had  run  out  in  advance  of  his 
guard,  and  coming  up  felt  relieved  to  know  that 
Kinsan  had  not  been  fatally  shot.  Halting  near  by, 
as  did  Shibusawa,  the  two  met  face  to  face,  measur- 
ing the  inevitable. 

Shibusawa,  the  conqueror,  spoke  first;  it  became 
not  him  to  humble  the  vanquished.  Speaking 
kindly  yet  firmly,  he  said: 

"What  would  you,  Tetsutaisho?" 

"I  am  a  samurai,  Shibusawa." 

"You  have  answered  well,  Tetsutaisho,  and  Shi- 
busawa is  none  the  less  a  man." 

They  drew  their  swords  —  Tetsutaisho,  the  one 
that  Munechika  had  died  in  the  forging;  Shibusawa, 
the  Murakumo  which  had  not  once  failed  the  illus- 
trious Maidos.  The  guards  stood  umpire  in  the  back- 
ground. The  clouds  parted  and  the  sun  shone  forth 
a  pale  red.  Their  steels  rang  with  the  perfection  of 
their  making.  Kinsan  rose  upon  one  arm  and  humbly 
raised  the  other  in  silent  deprecation.  Then  she 
turned  her  face  and  sank  back  upon  the  cool,  damp 
ground.  The  two  giants  did  not  heed  her;  they  were 
facing  death,  and  the  test  already  quickened. 

They  fought  without  an  error.  Twice  the  swarthy 
Tetsutaisho  forced  the  nimble  Shibusawa  to  the 
ground,  but  each  time  a  quicker  eye  and  better  mind 
saved  him  the  fall.  They  fought  fiercely,  and  the 


276  Shibusawa 

blood-stained  grass  told  of  their  deliberate  purpose. 
A  calm  settled  around  them ;  no  other  sound  could  be 
heard.  The  mighty  frame  of  the  one  pressed  hard; 
a  frown  crossed  his  face,  and  he  parried  heavily.  Shi- 
busawa's  muscles  set  and  his  eyes  flashed.  Then 
there  came  a  clash  and  a  thrust,  and  Tetsutaisho  fell 
prostrate,  with  a  broken  sword  at  his  side. 

Kinsan  feebly  turned  toward  them.  Tetsutaisho 
partly  rose,  and  beckoned  the  victor  approach.  Shi- 
busawa came  near,  and  Kinsan  faintly  heard  the  dying 
man's  last  words : 

"She  is  innocent!" 

Shibusawa  bent  over  Kinsan  and  asked  her  for- 
giveness. She  only  smiled;  then  he  took  her  in  his 
arms  and  carried  her  away.  It  was  not  far,  but 
chanced  to  be  to  the  hidden  cave,  which  lay  behind 
the  lines  just  below  the  hill  near  by.  There  he  called 
for  relief  and  her  wound  was  dressed.  When  she 
looked  about  and  saw  the  place  she  felt  her  great 
love,  and  knew  that  his  had  been  born  anew. 

After  Shibusawa  had  been  fully  informed  as  to  the 
nature  of  Kinsan 's  wound  he  ordered  the  army  held 
in  check,  and  directed  that  she  be  carried  to  his  own 
castle  just  below  the  grounds,  where  Maido,  his 
father,  had  lived  and  served  so  long  the  power  that 
he  himself  had  now  overcome  and  forever  destroyed. 
There  he  found  the  busy  Shiyoganai  still  in  charge, — 
Okyo  had  disappeared, —  and  after  providing  Kinsan 
with  every  comfort  and  the  best  skill  at  his  command 
Shibusawa  despatched  a  message  and  escort  for  his 
sister  Yasuko,  who  had  remained  behind  at  the  castle 
in  Kanazawa,  urging  her  to  come  quickly,  so  that  she 
might  relieve  him  of  the  immediate  care  of  Kinsan. 

He  had  learned  that  her  breast  was  pierced  through 


Their  steels  rang  with  the  perfection  of  their  making. 


Siege  of  Tokyo  277 

with  a  bullet,  and  that  while  the  wound  was  not  ne- 
cessarily a  dangerous  one  it  would  be  many  months 
before  she  could  be  expected  fully  to  recover,  even 
under  the  most  favourable  circumstances.  He  there- 
fore confined  his  further  war-like  operations  to  Tokyo 
and  the  immediate  vicinity,  returning  to  her  each  day 
until  his  sister  had  arrived  and  replaced  him  with  a 
more  useful,  if  not  kinder  attention.  Nor  was  Yasuko 
unhappy  for  the  chance,  but  applied  herself  with  a 
devotion  that  disclaimed  any  thought  of  stoicism  or 
even  indifference.  She  expressed  a  true  type  of  the 
generations  that  had  gone  before  her,  and  did  not 
falter  nor  shrink  from  her  part ;  she  loved  her  brother, 
and  believed  his  every  wish  worthy  of  her  unquestioned 
attention. 

And  she  not  only  nursed  the  sick  one,  but  so  de- 
voted herself  to  the  house  that  when  Shibusawa 
finally  returned  he  found  the  old  home  bubbling  over 
with  such  joys  as  he  had  never  before  known. 


CHAPTER   XLI 

THE    RESTORATION 

SHIBUSAWA  had  no  sooner  provided  for  Kin- 
san's  temporary  comfort  than  he  hastened  to 
resume  his  command.  The  halt  in  his  progress  had 
given  Daikomitsu  time  to  withdraw  the  rebellious 
samurai  in  order  and  hastily  prepare  a  cover  for  his 
retreat. 

After  having  induced  the  hesitating  troops  to  aban- 
don Tetsutaisho,  Daikomitsu  had  found  himself 
necessarily  pressed  into  their  command.  In  con- 
sequence he  withdrew  from  the  palace  grounds,  and 
taking  a  temporary  stand  at  Uyeno  park  undertook, 
with  a  small  detachment,  to  check  Shibusawa's 
advance  until,  with  the  main  body  of  the  samurai,  he 
had  fought  his  way  through  the  enemy's  line  to  the 
northward. 

It  had  grown  late  in  the  day  by  the  time  Shibusawa 
had  completed  his  investment  of  the  palace  and  re- 
sumed the  advance.  The  lateness  of  the  hour 
proved  greatly  to  Daikomitsu's  advantage ;  so  much  so 
that  when  the  mikado's  troops  reached  Uyeno  they 
were  unable  to  dislodge  the  enemy,  but  met  with  such 
resistance  as  to  check  their  advance  until  the  follow- 
ing morning.  Each  assault  had  been  sharp  but  de- 
cisive, and  every  attempt  met  with  positive  repulse. 
The  loss  of  life  was  great  and  to  the  surprise  of  both 
sides  proved  to  be  nearly  equal. 

Though  the  battle  of  Uyeno  has  ever  been  accounted 
278 


The  Restoration 


a  victory  for  the  mikadate,  Daikomitsu  had  cleared 
the  way,  and  under  cover  of  night  marched  through 
the  enemy's  lines  toward  Hakadata  in  the  north.  In 
the  meantime  Okotsuba  had  withdrawn  the  rebel 
fleet  and  proceeded  on  his  way  to  the  same  place, 
where  they  again  joined  forces  and  later  gained  a 
signal  victory  over  Shibusawa  and  his  modernised 
army,  who  had  followed  hot  in  pursuit. 

They  were,  however,  soon  doomed  to  entire  defeat, 
and  upon  their  final  surrender  both  Daikomitsu  and 
Okotsuba  were  brought  back  to  Tokyo,  and  in  con- 
sideration of  their  faithfulness  and  humanitarianism 
given  liberty.  The  doom  of  the  shogunate  had  been 
sounded  with  the  fall  of  Tetsutaisho,  and  no  power 
afterwards  could  have  saved  their  final  and  com- 
plete overthrow. 

The  news  of  the  great  victory  of  July  4th  soon 
reached  Kyoto,  and  the  mikado  began  making  prepa- 
rations to  remove  to  Tokyo.  Without  needless  delay 
he  started  thither,  and  upon  his  arrival  proclaimed 
himself  emperor  of  Japan,  changed  the  capital  city  to 
Tokyo,  and  promulgated  the  constitution  as  promised  : 
Shibusawa  had  gained  the  liberty  to  marry  whom  he 
chose,  and  he  lost  no  time  in  so  doing. 

Upon  his  return  from  the  north  he  was  offered  the 
highest  place  in  the  gift  of  the  emperor,  but  declining 
with  the  utmost  respect,  Shibusawa  chose  to  become 
a  private  citizen ;  the  emperor  excusing  him  only  upon 
his  earnest  personal  request,  trusting  to  his  loyalty 
for  the  necessary  and  proper  readjustment.  Accord- 
ingly, Shibusawa  forthwith  called  a  meeting  of  all  the 
daimyos,  at  which  Kido  was  named  mediator;  a  mem- 
orandum being  drafted  and  signed,  without  a  dissent- 
ing voice,  wherein  they  declared  their  willingness  to 


280  Shibusawa 

surrender  to  the  new  government  their  titles,  their 
fiefs,  and  their  arms. 

The  emperor  promptly  accepted  their  resignations 
and  promulgated  what  is  known  as  the  Patriotic  Act, 
whereby  those  who  chose  were  retitled  and  all  reim- 
bursed according  to  the  value  of  their  respective 
estates. 

Shibusawa  remained  a  loyal  subject  and  settled  at 
the  capital  city,  in  the  old  castle  under  the  hill  which 
had  for  centuries  been  the  home  of  his  ancestors  and 
a  pride  to  the  once  glorious  but  now  departed  court. 
Here  he  gathered  around  him  the  loyal  and  the  faith- 
ful. Others  were  pensioned  or  rewarded,  and  none 
was  dissatisfied.  Kinsan  had  recovered,  and  the 
quaint  halls  once  more  echoed  to  the  sound  of  mar- 
riage bells.  There  were  a  host  to  do  him  honour,  and 
a  world  to  keep  them  faithful,  while  no  sorrow  of  the 
past  shadowed  their  future.  The  prattle  of  children, 
the  song  of  a  mother,  and  the  solicitude  of  a  father 
graced  their  home  and  cheered  their  lives,  making  the 
battle  worth  the  victory. 

They  lived  as  they  had  hoped,  a  blessing  came  as 
the  reward  of  their  faith,  and  whether  in  the  social 
hall  or  before  the  footboards  of  the  great  Donjero: 
though  at  toil  in  the  world  or  at  rest  in  the  home, 
they  had  found  peace,  the  brightest  jewel  in  the  crown 
of  life. 


APPENDIX 

Nearly  all  Japanese  words  should  be  spoken  without  accent,  or.  rather,  with 
a  slight  and  equal  accent  upon  each  syllable.  The  pronunciation  should  begin 
with  a  perceptible  force,  which  gradually  softens  to  the  last,  through  a  quick  suc- 
cession of  all  the  syllables. 

1.  Nippon  (Nip-pon).      This  was  the  Japanese  name  for 
Japan,  though  foreigners  had  always  confined  or  limited  its 
use  to  the  name  of  the  largest  island,  or  mainland,  of  the 
Japanese  archipelago. 

To  those  who  are  familiar  with  things  Japanese  the  sound 
of  this  name  carries  a  special  significance,  for  in  it  are  wrapped 
the  origin  and  growth  of  Japanese  life,  its  religion,  customs, 
traditions,  and  beliefs. 

Their  history  covers  an  unbroken  reign,  the  longest  of  any 
progressive  people  now  on  earth,  so  far  as  we  know,  and  their 
version  of  the  Creation  contains  a  principle  that  is  pre-emi- 
nently theirs;  for  Shintoism  knows  only  Japan.  Their 
religion,  like  the  Christian  with  Christians,  is  co-extensive 
with  their  history;  each  beginning  the  record,  as  do  all  others, 
at  its  separation  from  myth. 

2.  Daimyo  (di-mi-6-).     The  highest  official  in  a  province 
under  the  shogunate.     By  way  of  comparison,  his  position 
might  be  said  to  have  corresponded  to  that  of  governor  of 
a  state  in  America,  though  his  powers  and  duties  were  very 
dissimilar.      The  title   originated  under  the  mikadate,  but 
from  necessity  as  well  as  policy  the  daimyos  generally  be- 
came allied  with  the  shogunate,  hence  in  fact  a  part  of  it. 

3.  Shogun  (sho-gun).      The  official  head  of  the  shogunate 
(one  of  the  dual  sides,  or  heads,  of  the  Japanese  government) 

which  was  established  in  the  twelfth  century,  and  lasted  until 
abolished  in  1868. 

From  the  beginning  of  recorded  Japan  until  the  twelfth 
century  the  mikado  was  the  sole  ruler,  both  spiritual  and 
temporal,  and  during  the  latter  part  of  his  reign,  as  such, 
the  shogun  existed,  but  only  as  an  inferior:  the  commander- 

281 


282  Appendix 

in-chief  of  the  mikado's  armies.  Thus  intrenched  behind 
the  military  forces  the  shogun  became  enabled  to  enlarge  his 
powers,  and  finally  forcibly  made  the  office  hereditary,  and 
himself  secure  in  the  material  rule  of  the  empire. 

Satisfied  with  temporal  supremacy  the  shogunate  never 
attempted  to  encroach  upon  the  mikado's  spiritual  distinc- 
tion, as  ever  held  by  the  people.  Nor  was  it  alone  policy 
that  so  long  prompted  a  continuance  of  this  dual  form  of 
government,  but  it  was  the  ruling  spirit  quite  as  much  of  the 
shogunate  as  of  the  people  at  large.  This  has  been  repeatedly 
denied  —  in  fact,  it  has  been  denied  that  there  ever  was 
actually  two  heads  of  government  —  but  the  facts  hardly 
justify  any  such  conclusion.  Brushing  aside  all  technicali- 
ties, a  brilliant  and  polite  administration  of  upwards  of  a 
thousand  years  stands  out  in  its  dual  capacity  as  distinctly 
as  do  the  two  sister  planets,  and  if  that  is  not  sufficient  to 
establish  authenticity  as  such  then  man  must  be  at  a  loss 
to  comprehend  what  constitutes  the  right  of  recognition. 

There  was,  in  fact,  a  dual  form  of  government:  the  one 
head,  the  mikado,  spiritual;  the  other,  the  shogun,  material 
—  each  in  its  sphere,  as  related  to  a  homogeneous  whole.  By 
a  compromise  these  two  were,  in  1868,  merged  into  one  — 
the  empire  —  with  a  discontinuance  of  the  shogunate,  and 
a  continuance  of  the  mikadate  line  of  succession  as  the  sole, 
reigning  emperor.  (See  No.  9,  Mikado.) 

4.  Kimono  (ki-mo-n5).     The   outer,  or  principal  garment 
worn  by  the  Japanese,  both  male  and  female. 

5.  Harakiri  (ha-ra-ka-ra) .     An  honourable  method  of  com- 
mitting suicide  under  the  shogunate.     It  was  generally  done 
under  an  official  decree  of  death,  and  performed  by  cutting 
or  ripping  open  the  belly  with  a  sharp  knife  or  dirk. 

6.  Koto  (ko-to).     A  kind  of  harp,  or  stringed  instrument 
used  in  Japan,  more  for  the  production  of  classic  music. 

7.  Geisha  (gl-sha).      A  professional  singer  or  musician  of 
the  female  sex,  who  sings  or  plays  for  hire,  at  bath  private 
and  public  functions. 

8.  Etas  (et-as).     The  "-unclean";   such  as  grave-diggers, 
etc. 

9.  Mikado  (mu-ka-do) .     The  official  head  of  the  Japanese, 
both  spiritual  and  temporal,  from  the  beginning  until  the 


Appendix  283 

twelfth  century,  when  the  shogun  rose  to  power  and  seized 
the  material  functions  of  government. 

Thence  a  dual  form  ensued,  the  mikado  remaining  the 
spiritual  and  the  shogun  the  temporal  ruler  until  1868,  when 
both  were  merged  into  the  empire,  with  the  mikado's  line 
reigning  as  emperor.  The  office  of  shogun  was  then  abol- 
ished. (See  No.  3,  Shogun.) 

10.  Joro  (jo-ro).     A  woman  who  for  hire  submits  herself 
to  the  practice   of  sexual  intercourse,  in  accordance  with 
custom  and  law.     When  done  under  stress  of  circumstances, 
such  as  the  financial  aid  of  a  distressed  parent,  it  was  deemed 
a  virtue,  and  the  participant,  except  for  the  time  being,  did 
not  lose  caste,   but  when   the  contract   time   had  elapsed 
(usually  three  years)  was  received    by  her  friends  and  the 
community  as  a  sort  of  martyr. 

11.  Kakemono  (ka-ke-mo-no) .    The  predominant  Japanese 
picture   used   for  decorating  the   walls   of  a  house.     It  is 
usually  painted,  or  scrolled  upon  a  long,  narrow  piece  of  silk 
or  sheet  of  paper,  and  mounted  upon  a  roller.     Its  use  is 
similar  to  that  of  the  ordinary  European  framed  picture, 
and  it  was  the  means  of  expressing  their  highest  art  in  paint- 
ing and  writing. 

12.  Kuge  (koo-ga).      A  class,   consisting  of    nobles    and 
members  of  the  former  mikado's  court. 

13.  Ronin  (ro-mn).     At  first  an   organized  band  of  dis- 
affected patriots,  but  afterwards  a  malcon tented  clan  who 
held  themselves  in  readiness,  for  hire  or  otherwise,  to  commit 
some  depredation  upon  organised  society,  or  its  members. 
The  Band  of  Forty-Seven  have  been  much  written  about  in 
prose  and  poetry. 

14.  Bakufu  (ba-koo-foo) .     A  class  consisting  of  retainers 
and  members  of  the  shogun's  court. 

15.  Samisen   (sa-mi-sen) .     A  stringed  musical  instrument 
resembling  something  between  a  banjo  and  a  guitar.     It  is 
commonly  used  by  the   geishas,   and  is  popular  with  the 
lower  classes. 

16.  Kokyu  (ko-ky-u).     A  kind  of  musical  instrument. 

17.  Sayonara  (sl-yo-na-ra) .     The  Japanese  for  "  good-bye." 

18.  Koku  (ko-koo).     A  unit  of  measure,  whose  degree  of 
value  varied  with  time  and  locality. 


284  Appendix 

19.  Hinin  (hi-mn).   The  vile;  such  as  slaughterers,  beggars, 
etc.     At  one  time  they  were  by  law  made  social  outcasts. 

20.  Obi  (6-bi).     A  kind  of  sash,  or  girdle,  worn  about  the 
waist  for  convenience  and  ornament. 

21.  Yamabushi  (ya-ma-boo-shi) .     Mendicant  monks. 

22.  Tokaido  (T6-kI-do).     The  great  military  road,  or  high- 
way, between  Tokyo  and  Kyoto. 


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